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“Kellyanne opened the car door and crawled into my bedroom. Her face was puffy and pale and fuzzed-over. She just came in and said: "Ashmol, Pobby and Dingan are maybe-dead." That's how she said it.”

Quote by Ben Rice

Book:Pobby and Dingan
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Pobby and Dingan

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Ben Rice

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“It’s hard to look back on your life and point to one event–one moment–that changed everything and set you on the path that made you…you. That only happens in movies. Most people’s lives are a series of millions of messy little moments strung together adding up to a messy little life. But sometimes, you can look back and see a pattern forming… see a clear path cutting through the mess. It makes you wonder, do we even have a choice at all? Or was that path going to form no matter what we did? Yeah, it’s easy to look back and see the pattern. It’s easy to second-guess every decision you made and figure out what you would’ve done differently. But none of that much matters now. It’s all in the past. Can’t waste time thinking about who i was, who i could’ve been. All that matters now is who i am.”

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“(...) às vezes acontece-nos isso com o que se nega ou se cala, com o que se guarda e sepulta, vai-se esfumando sem remédio e chegamos a descrer que na realidade existisse ou se desse, tendemos a desconfiar incrivelmente das nossas percepções quando já são passado e não se vêem confirmadas nem ratificadas de fora por ninguém, renegamos da nossa memória às vezes e acabamos por contar a nós próprios inexactas versões daquilo que presenciámos, não confiamos como testemunhas nem em nós próprios, submetemos tudo a traduções, fazemo-las dos nossos nítidos actos e nem sempre são fiéis, para que assim os actos comecem a ser indistintos, e por fim entregamo-nos e damo-nos à interpretação perpétua, até do que nos consta e sabemos de ciência certa, e assim fazemo-lo flutuar instável, impreciso, e nunca nada está fixado nem nunca é definitivo e tudo nos baila até ao fim dos dias, talvez se dê o caso de praticamente não suportarmos as certezas, nem sequer as que nos convêm e reconfortam, para já não falar das que nos desagradam ou nos questionam ou doem, ninguém se quer transformar nisso, na sua própria dor e sua lança e sua febre.”

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“You can blame it on the circumstances, the environment, but you made the choices you made, no one else. It's a lot to take in all at once, but it's essential that you make an effort to answer that question. Who are human beings? Because who we are determines the type of governing we need. Later on, I hope you can reflect and be honest with yourself about that you learned tonight.”

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“His girl. His. Here in the Capitol, it was a given that Lucy Gray belonged to him, as if she’d had no life before her name was called out at the reaping. Even that sanctimonious Sejanus believed she was something he could trade for. If that wasn’t ownership, what was? With her song, Lucy Gray had repudiated all that by featuring a life that had nothing to do with him, and a great deal to do with someone else. Someone she referred to as “lover,” no less. And while he had no claim on her heart — he barely knew the girl! — he didn’t like the idea of anyone else having it either. Although the song had been a clear success, he felt somehow betrayed by it. Even humiliated.”

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“You heard him say it? 'Pain's the only evil I know about.' You heard that?" The monk nodded solemnly. "And that society is the only thing that determines whether an act is wrong or not? That too?" "Yes." "Dearest God, how did those two heresies get back into the world after all this time? Hell has limited imaginations down there. 'The serpent deceived me, and I did eat.”

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