Red Rising Quotes
You do not follow me because I am the strongest. Pax is. You do not follow me because I am the brightest. Mustang is. You follow me because you do not know where you are going. I do.
Funny how a single word can change everything in your life." "It is not funny at all. Steel is power. Money is power. But of all the things in all the worlds, words are power.
My love, my love Remember the cries When winter died for spring skies They roared and roared But we grabbed our seed And sowed a song Against their greed And Down in the vale Hear the reaper swing, the reaper swing the reaper swing Down in the vale Hear the reaper sing A tale of winter done My son, my son Remember the chains When gold ruled with iron reins We roared and roared And twisted and screamed For ours, a vale of better dreams.
Personally, I do not want to make you a man. Men are so very frail. Men break. Men die. No, I’ve always wished to make a god.
They pushed and pushed for so long. They knew I was something dangerous, something different. Sooner or later, they had to know I would snap and come to cut them down. Or perhaps they think I'm still a child. The fools. Alexander was a child when he ruined his first nation.
Tactics win battles. Strategy wins wars," I say. "Oooo. I am Reaper. God of wolves. King of strategy." Mustang pinches my cheek. "You are just too adorable.
I look at him for a moment. Words are a weapon stronger than he knows. And songs are even greater. The words wake the mind. The melody wakes the heart. I come from a people of song and dance. I don’t need him to tell me the power of words. But I smile nonetheless.
All wounds heal. Even these." "That's a lie." I tell him. I'll never be healed of Eo. That pain will last forever. "Some things do not fade. Some things can never be made right.
I can trust you." "How do you know?" she says again. This is when I kiss her. I cannot give her the haemanthus. That is my heart, and it is of Mars- one of the only things born from the red soil. And it is still Eo's. But this girl, when they took her... I would have done anything to see her smirking again. Perhaps one day I'll have two hearts to give.
Dancer, Darrow is like a stallion, one of the old stallions of Earth. Beautiful beasts that will run as hard as you push them. They will run. And run. And run. Until they don't. Until their hearts explode.
Oh, Vixus," I say with a sigh, keeping the tremble of anger and fear out of my voice. "Vixus, Vixus, Vixus. There are no boys like me.
The fleas would jump and jump to heights unknown. Then a man came along and upturned a glass jar over the fleas. The fleas jumped and hit the top of the jar and could go no farther. Then the man removed the jar and yet the fleas did not jump higher than they had grown accustomed, because they believed there to still be a glass ceiling.
He said he did it for justice, for the honor of his family and House. But this is revenge, and how hollow it seems.
You have to remember, people don’t like being told what to do. You can treat your friends like servants and they’ll love you, but you tell them they’re servants and they’ll kill you. ...
Emptiness is living chained by fear, fear of loss, of death. I say we break those chains. Break the chains of fear and you break the chains that bind us.
Why is it so horrible?" I ask him. "Life. All this. Why do they need to make us do this? Why do they treat us like we're their slaves?" "Power." "Power isn't real. It's just a word.
And what was that about blood brothers? That means absolutely nothing. You might as well have said you were pinecone cousins.
Hang a man for no real reason and you might get some grumblings from the townships. But force sobriety upon us, and you'll be picking up the pieces for a bloodydamn month.
She will not come back, but her beauty, her voice, will echo until the end of time. She believed in something beyond herself, and her death gave her voice power it didn't have in life.
My name is Darrow, leader of House Mars. I’m here to meet with your Primus, if you have one. If you don’t, your leader will suffice. And if you don’t have one of those either, take me to whoever has the biggest balls.
My people sing, we dance, we love. That is our strength. But we also dig. And then we die. Seldom do we get to choose why. That choice is power. That choice has been our only weapon. But it is not enough.
Things are set in stone. Things are well ordered. Reds at the bottom, everyone else standing on our backs. Now you're looking at me and you're realizing that we don't bloodydamn like it down there. Red is rising, Mickey.
are dirty. We are made for blood. Rough hands. Dirty hearts. We are lesser creatures in the grand scheme of things, but without us men of war, no one except those of Lykos would hear Eo’s song. Without our rough hands, the dreams of the pure hearts would never be built.
'And now I Carve the things I saw in my fever dreams, just as they always wished. I dreamed of you, I think. In the end, I suppose they'll wish I hadn't dreamed at all.'.
Or perhaps they think I’m still a child. The fools. Alexander was a child when he ruined his first nation.
'Found the sheep too easy to kill?' I ask. 'Where'd you get the weapon?' 'Born with them.' His fingernails are bloody.
You're of use because you're more than a weapon. When your wife died, she didn't just give you a vendetta. She gave you her dream. You're its keeper. Its maker. So don't be spitting anger and hate. You're not fighting against them, no matter what Harmony says. You're fighting for Eo's dream, for your family that is still alive, your people.
Oh, very much so, Sir Reaper. I like people more than you do. You are the wolf that howls and bites. I am the mustang that nuzzles the hand. People know they can work with me. With you? Hell, kill or be killed.
Death isn't empty like you say it is. Emptiness is life without freedom...Emptiness is living chained by fear, fear of loss, fear of death. I say we break those chains.
Bellona and Augustus, blood enemies, both watch me as you would a snake. I killed one of their sons and embarrassed the other's. I do believe this may become awkward.
All my people sing of are memories. And so I will remember this death. It will burden me as it does not burden my fellow students -- I must not let that change. I must not become like them. I'll remember that every sin, every death, every sacrifice, is for freedom.
'Personally, I do not want to make you a man. Men are so very frail. Men break. Men die. No, I've always wished to make a god.' He smiles mischievously as he does some sketches on a digital pad. He spins it around and shows me the killer I will become. 'So why not carve you to be the god of war?'.