Red Rising Saga Quotes

"Do not let fear touch you. Fear is the torrent. The raging river. To fight it is to break and drown. But to stand astride it is to see it, feel it, and use its course for your own whims."

"That doesn’t look anything like me. You look like a bloody saint plowed an angel and out you popped. I look like a deranged fucking mutant that eats babies."

"We must choose. Is our Republic ruled by its voice, or by its sword?"

"Grays: short in life, long in memory."

"You know, every time I saw a Gold slaver walk free for the sake of ‘the war effort,’ it was like watching them spit on Trigg’s grave. Aja might be dust, but men and women just like that bitch walk the worlds because the people holding your leash couldn’t follow through. Shoulda put a Gray as Sovereign. At least we finish shit."

"As from the darkening gloom a silver dove upsoars, and darts into the Eastern light, On pinions that naught moves but pure delight, So fled thy soul into the realms above, Regions of peace and everlasting love…."

"Darrow. If we do not meet again in this world, I will save a seat for you in the mead hall beside Ragnar and my kin."

"I know it may be impossible to believe now, when everything is dark and broken, but you will survive this pain, little one. Pain is a memory. You will live and you will struggle and you will find joy. And you will remember your family from this breath to your dying days, because love does not fade. Love is the stars, and its light carries on long after death."

"Sometimes, little one, it’s best if the worlds think you a little mad.” He winks. “Inspiring what they’ll let you get away with."

"Just as Obsidians are bred to be killing machines, Pinks are made to be fucking machines. Both can be very persuasive. There’s levels to them too. Obsidian have their Stained. Pinks have their Roses. Just as rare, about as expensive."

"We are both thieves,” he says. “But there are two subspecies of thieves in this world. The first thinks anything that can be taken should be taken. This thief believes in anarchy. The second subspecies is one who believes that not everything should be stolen. That some things must be sacred. This thief believes in order. My question, then, is which subspecies are you, Mr. Horn?"

"I don’t rat. And I don’t play with the Syndicate. Man has to have a code."

"In words of Old Stoneside, ‘Mercy emboldens evil men.’ You and I have the misfortune of floating amongst a sea of evil men. A debt is owed. A debt must be paid."

"Where else would I be?” He smiles slowly. “When a sister is lost, a brother seeks. Father sent me, Seraphina."

"Assassination is probably the only enterprise where private industry is not more efficient."

"There will be violence."

"A new wound can take a body. Opening an old one can claim a soul."

"They were startled by my grandfather’s hospitality. The respect he showed them. The gentle way in which he spoke, even as the Codovan and Norvo gnashed their teeth over Rhea. They mistook grace for weakness. Abused his kindness. Then Fabii learned the lesson I am about to teach you."

"There is an intensity to his quiet, like a lone cold stone sitting in a still pool of water. A humility to his bearing and expression that I did not expect, and in some way makes me feel as if we stumbled upon an ancient creature in his private garden, one who has seen the shaping of worlds, the sundering of empires. I feel calm, but very, very small as the myth earns flesh. Unlike me, he stood before the Reaper but did not surrender his moon. He gave an arm and a son to protect it."

"Alea iacta est. (The die is cast)"

"Superior genetics for the win,” he crows. “Be not ashamed, geriatric friends."

"You know, Pebs, if Sevro is the father of the Howlers, you just might be the mother."

"One could argue for the necessary industry of Reds or the cultlike military religion instilled in Grays, or the efficiency and neutered emotions in Coppers, but this…Pinks were not needed to make my grandmother’s world function. They were built for lechery, subjected to centuries of systematic breeding, abuse, psychological and sexual domination. Chemically neutered and twisted inside so that their suicide rate is eleven times higher than that of any other Color."

"Stupid gahja.” She taps my forehead. “Nothing is past. Everything that was, is. That scar is a story of your subjugation. Slay the man who gave you that, and it becomes the story of your liberation."

"my father taught me that scars are why our ancestors were able to shape the worlds. As Golds, we were born as perfect as man can be. It is our duty to embrace the scars our choices give us, to embrace and remember our mistakes, else we live believing our own myth.” She smiles to herself. “He says a man who believes his own myth is like a drunk thinking he can dance barefoot on a razor’s edge."