Soldiers do not believe in gods until they do something to offend them.

A wise man who’s ignored is about as effective as an idiot who’s listened to.

A heartbeat. The first and last sound of a human life.

You want a profound and total lack of people violently dying on you, try dairy farming instead.

Nothing is pointless, as long as one is alive.

The war drums pound out a beat like that of the human heart. The terrible, awful sound of living, that one first learns to love and tremble at when floating in the womb.

He killed and killed and killed and killed. Death! Death! Death!

Gods, this was wondrous! Everything, even the joyful slaughter in the palace of Sorlost, everything in his life was as nothing compared to this! Power. Such power flowing through him. They died at his asking. All of them. He'd kill them all. So futile, their little lives. The thin fine skin of life, suspended over the eternity of emptiness. They all deserved to die, surely? Death and death and death! The one true thing! The only true thing!

Blood! Oh blood! Oh blood and killing! He struck his sword out with his sword and a man fell before him, cut open, gutted like a fish. A stink of shit.

Amrath! Amrath! Amrath and the Altrersyr! Death and all demons! Death! Death! Death!