Cassius au Bellona Quotes

"I am Cassius au Bellona, son of Tiberius, son of Julia, Morning Knight, and my honor remains."

"We all deserve the worms, Raa"

"Hello, goodman. Kavax said you might need a hand."

"After being cut to ribbons by Raa Dustwalkers, breaking my word to Diomedes au Raa, racing across half the system to plunge through the Ash Armada into a warzone to save Darrow, then back through the Ash Armada again—under the guns of the Annihilo, the Annihilo—I ally with the Minotaur, a grandiose ruffian overcompensating for his poor heritage whom I haven’t seen since he was quoting Milton high on lexamine and blowfish poison in a Martian brothel fourteen years ago?” He bats the air like a cat. “Please. If you’re desperate to insult me, at least do me the dignity of being lucid."

"I…don’t think you quite understand where Darrow is going, or how he goes places, or what he does when he gets there. I’ve been on the other side of the equation…how do I say it? It’s utter carnage.”"

"Once more unto the breach, it seems."

"I was used as a bus driver for a spy I’m in love with who I thought rescued me because she thought I was a hero, whose protégé chose to become a tyrant and shoot my best friend’s protégé in the head—whom I find out was the paragon of honor.” He smiles. “I’m over the moon, goodman."

"Of all the people to clone, it had to be the creepiest."

"To the engines, the reactor, rapid winds may they devise. To our hearts, to our hands, toward deeds brave and true may they rise. To the Republic, to Mars, for hope and liberty ever may they stride.” He thinks for a moment. “To our Sovereign, a lion Gold but wise as Minerva gray-eyed."

"Steel sharpens steel."

"You have a callsign already?” “Red Banshee,” I say. “It’s rude to start a friendship with lies,” he replies. “What is it really? You can be honest with me.” I grimace. “Truffle Pig.” “Oh dear.” A smile creeps across his face. “You really shouldn’t have told me that."

"I just wanted to see the Reaper in an open field,” he says. “The verdict is in. You’re a menace to savage and civilized alike."

"Yes. Certainly concussed. But not a bad bill for a good deed."

"You’d really die here with me? I just…well…I thought that was your and Sevro’s thing. Thank you, Darrow."

"You kill one terrorist warlord…"

"What a waste of talent. Honestly, it’s like a bad joke. We might be the best three razormasters to share a room in the last sixty years, and it’s a prison! And not one of us was taken in a straight fight."

"My goodmen, it’s uncivilized to do anything but laugh in the face of death. Why do you think I’m always so jaunty these days?"

"It’s the jawline. Isn’t it selfless, really. I take the pressure off everyone else. They don’t have to worry about being the most handsome in the room. They can just be. Ah. Heavy is the chin that sets the bar."

"I only knew Lorn from afar, but I think he would be flattered if people said you were a reflection of him."

"Students are always a reflection of the teacher, Darrow. Fá was for Atlas. You are for Lorn. Alexandar was for you."

"Julian.” I sit a little straighter. He never mentions Julian. “He’d say I judged my own worth too much by the people I kept around me. I was poor in those days. I’m quite rich now, I think.” He means it even if he knows it sounds silly. He looks me right in the eyes. “Really, Darrow. I don’t know many people as long as I’ve known you. I just want to say that I really appreciate you. As a person. We’ve had our spots. We really have. We brought out a lot of the bad in each other, but a lot more good. I think it’s like that because we speak a common language, you know? We’ve always understood each other deep down.” I nod. He looks out the window. “I’m not really blessed at keeping friends. But you are. I truly respect that. I know how special your friends are to you, how protective you are of them. And it means…quite a bit to me that you’ve invited me into your pack and made me feel welcome. No…it means everything, really. Without this, without your friends, I’m very much alone. You’ve put a lot of faith in me. Faith that I don’t think I’ve always deserved. I just want to say…thank you, Darrow."

"Brothers,” he murmurs. “It does feel like it fits. We’ll try it on."

"I’m sorry for it, Lys. I am. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the teacher you deserved. That I poisoned you with neglect. Suffocated you with judgment. I know when you looked at me you just wanted me to be happy. But I couldn’t be happy. I’ve…always had trouble with that. Without distractions…well. If I could do it all again, I wouldn’t try to shape you. I’d try to let you shape me into what you needed. I think we’d both have been better off for it."

"Since I woke up on Europa after being cut to ribbons by those Raa cousins, I’ve thought about what I’d say when I saw you again. I was angry at first. Angry that you wanted this war. That you didn’t obey me, didn’t heed the lessons I’d tried to teach you. I saw that as a betrayal. But now I know I was angry because I was always asking you to be someone you weren’t. Someone you could never be."

"No, Lysander. You choose. That’s the point of it all. Isn’t it? You choose. The chair means this much to you? More than the people in your life who love you?"