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Quote by Mark Lawrence

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Emperor of Thorns

In this fantasy novel, the protagonist ascends to the throne of a fictional empire, facing numerous challenges and threats to his rule. The story delves into themes of power, corruption, and the human cost of ambition, as the emperor navigates a treacherous political landscape filled with cunning advisors and rival claimants. more

Author

Mark Lawrence
Mark Lawrence

Mark Lawrence, born on January 1, 1968, is a talented writer whose works span various literary genres. Known for his unique narrative style and profound thematic explorations, his writing has gained widespread recognition from readers and critics. more

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“I think if Eternity held torment, its form would not be fiery rack, nor its nature, despair. I think that on a certain day amongst those days which never dawned, and will not set, an angel entered Hades — stood, shone, smiled, delivered a prophecy of conditional pardon, kindled a doubtful hope of bliss to come, not now, but at a day and hour unlooked for, revealed in his own glory and grandeur the height and compass of his promise: spoke thus — then towering, became a star, and vanished into his own Heaven. His legacy was suspense — a worse boon than despair.”

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“What were you doing tonight anyway?' 'What makes you ask?' His tone clearly insinuates that I shouldn't. Too bad. 'You made it to my room within minutes, and you're not exactly dressed for sleeping.' He's strapped with a sword for crying out loud. 'Maybe I sleep in my armour, too.' 'Then you should pick more trustworthy bedmates.' He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I'm used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart-stopping smile that I'm anything but immune to.”

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“Before him stood a tall bay horse, a very fine hunter, and on it sat the man. He was as large as his voice and, thought Jack, a most peculiar sight: a picture of softened sharpness. He was middle-aged and of a rather fair, but rich colouring, with glinting eyes and ruddy cheeks. He wore colourful clothes, a beautiful embroidered waistcoat of gold and green and pink and red, beneath a riding coat of a familiar shade of green, and bright white breeches with polished black top boots that had lovely brown trim. But there was nothing cheery about these colours, they were strong and shone like metal. Just like a suit of armour, thought Jack.”

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Book:The First Tale of the Tinners' Rabbits
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