She had not known that she was cold until she was no longer cold. Change was what made knowledge possible.

A lie became the truth when enough people had reasons to pretend it was true.

So much of learning, decided Théra, consisted of forgetting how much you already knew.

The world is infinite, but the lives of the mortals are finite. Nurture and nature are both powerless before all-devouring Time.

I think the most likely answer is that the gods were constructed in the image of the humans themselves, and not real at all.

Everyone is a storyteller,” he said. “That’s how we make sense of this life we live. Misfortune and affliction test us with one blow after another, most of which we don’t deserve. We have to tell ourselves a story about why to make all the random manipulations of fate and fortune bearable.

Even in fighting for freedom, humans can’t seem to… be better than human.

The scars left in minds were invisible, but they dictated the course of lives as much as physical disfigurements.

The Five Tribes might be united as one in name, but in reality they were more like five eels forced to share the same narrow cave in the coral reef.

The clever wolf wags her tail and drinks the offered milk, adopting the guise of the domesticated dog. But her true nature is held deep inside, like a sheathed bone dagger.

The mortals cannot ever become as wise as we are, but it isn’t because of their lack of divine insight. The world is infinite, but the lives of the mortals are finite. Nurture and nature are both powerless before all-devouring Time. Look at how disappointed these souls are at learning how little they knew. It’s impossible for the finite to ever discern the truth of the universe in its infinite multitudes

Though each individual mortal experiences life for but a score of years, they can draw upon a store of stories left by all their forbearers. The race of humankind grows toward infinity, even as the nature of each individual is limited. Nature may describe tendencies and circumscribe potentialities, but it is within the power of each soul to nurture itself for another life, to imagine a course not taken, to strive for a different view. Through that yearning by the finite for the infinite, the portraits painted by all the mortal eyes may yet piece together a grander truth than our divine understanding.”“If I didn’t know you better,” said Lutho, “I would almost say you’re turning kindhearted toward the mortals. Will you nurture them by my side?”“I am the Lord of Chaos,” said Tazu. “I am neither kind nor unkind. It is my lot to introduce chance into the lives of the mortals, and watch as their natures unfold.”And this was why, from then on, Lutho asked remoras to attach themselves close to the eyes of dome-headed whales, so that the little fish could clean parasites and dead skin off the giant eyelids, so that the small might share their stories with the grand as brother and sister, so that the magnificent finned lords of the ocean might see realities with more care and clarity.And this was why, from then on, Tazu’s storms periodically tossed the tiny inhabitants of coral reefs onto distant and strange shores filled with alien leviathans and antipodal krill, so that they could see what they never would have seen, so that they could hear stories they never would have heard and tell stories they never would have told, so that their natures could be nurtured by new experiences.

Everyone is a storyteller,” he said. “That’s how we make sense of this life we live. Misfortune and affliction test us with one blow after another, most of which we don’t deserve. We have to tell ourselves a story about why to make all the random manipulations of fate and fortune bearable.”

You have been fooling yourself that standing still is the same as making progress, that lying down in submission is the same as plotting revenge, that telling those who dare to fight that the time isn’t right is the same as seeking out the opportunity for a fatal strike. You’ve yielded so much of your pride and strength that you dare not even call yourself by the title that is your birthright. Who are you to speak to me of courage and power? You have turned your people into a flock of sheep, with you as a sheepdog for the Lyucu.

You seek perfection. But there is often no line between perfection and evil.

even in the pursuit of lasting peace, blood flows and bones pile.

I shouldn’t be so hard on the Moralists, thought Jia. It’s their nature to obsess over what is right, to imagine an idealized world in which the bonds of mutual respect and faith govern all. A man like Zato Ruthi would fight a war by giving his opponent every advantage, reasoning that those who did what was right would always triumph.But we don’t live in a world like that. We live in a world in which to save the many, sometimes the few must be sacrificed.

They would condemn me for what I’m doing and what I’m about to do, and declare me devoid of the Grace of Kings. They would be right. But better that they remain alive to condemn me than for me to follow their ideals and lead all to death.We all follow our natures. Timu can’t help his timid and bookish devotion to the Ano sages, and neither can the Lyucu deviate from their worship of might makes right. I will encourage these natures and push them along, and rather than confrontation, savor the long, lasting victory that comes from sheathing the Grace of Kings.

You err,” said Cutanrovo, “in thinking that only armed insurrection poses a threat. Memories, you see, can be even more dangerous. We must have your complete submission, in both body and heart. To glorify the memories of traitors is to rebel in your heart.”

You can’t ever erase the truth from the hearts of the people,” said Nazu Tei. “Tyrants may rule over land, air, and sea, but the heart of a man is forever free.”

There are always a thousand causes contributing to every effect. If I hadn’t chosen to keep the mementos of my benefactors; if I hadn’t decided to settle in Kigo Yezu; if you hadn’t seen me with my zamaki set—any of these would have broken the chain of causation, but that isn’t how we assign blame or responsibility. Cutanrovo’s heart was full of hate, and the deaths of the villagers cannot be blamed on anyone but her

Whatever happens, Kinri-tika, know this: I hate what the Lyucu have done, and the evil they continue to do. But that doesn’t mean I hate each individual Lyucu. That there is a difference between the collective and the individual, and yet they’re bound up in ways that cannot be easily disentangled, is one of the hardest problems in life,

You’re terrified that your own children, once they’ve come to love this land and know its people, will be ashamed of the truth of the atrocities committed to obtain it and still being committed to hold it—

But that is why you’re afraid to allow your children to learn history from native masters, isn’t it? And you”—he pointed to the native ministers in the hall—“you are afraid of how your own children will view you when they find out that you’ve been teaching them lies, that you’ve bought your life of leisure and wealth at the cost of the lives of those who died and are still dying at Naza Pass, in Kigo Yezu, in hundreds of other hamlets and villages. Our reign is named Audacious Freedom, but both parts are lies! You have all been living as Cowardly Slaves!”

And I’ve been afraid of the truth myself. Though I’ve tried to save the lives of the people, to tolerate horrors in the name of the greater good, I’ve been kept safe from the consequences of this regime that I’ve made legitimate.

Rather than suppressing the teaching of the truth, we should embrace it. I know what you’re afraid of, my breath. You’re afraid of the truth that it’s impossible for the Lyucu to win, that you can never fulfill your father’s dream. How can you win when there are so many more natives than Lyucu? When you refuse to treat this land as your home to be cared for rather than a conquest to be exploited? When the core islands grow stronger daily under my mother

Profit and gain moved even cowards to take great risks.

You’re not deficient in acumen, Zomi,” said Jia. “But you lack … the willingness to acknowledge the complexity of the human heart. You want the world to be black and white, evil and good, lies and truth. But working with people is far more complicated than working with machines.

In all of these decisions, you were guided by sentiment rather than reason, prizing that which is more meaningful over that which is measurably of more use and value. How can you fault the cashima for doing the same?

You may think ending your life will end the conflagration, but it won’t. Let me tell you what’s going to happen next if you die. Cutanrovo will continue to find more traitors among the ranks of the officials and ministers and clerks and clergy until the entire state apparatus of Ukyu-taasa is in ruins. There will be no one to supervise the repairs to the irrigation system; there will be no one to distribute food to villages struck by plague or drought; there will be no one to stand up, however feebly, for natives subjected to another outrage from a Lyucu naro or culek. There will be rebellions, and more mass killings, until this carnage you see before you will seem like a mercy.”

Will heroes be forgotten? Will faith be rewarded?Though stars tremble in the storm, our hearts do not waver.Our hair may turn white, but our blood remains crimson.

That’s how I see it. War comes from hatred, but hatred is always based on a selfish love, a love that seeks to confine rather than to expand—love of home can turn into hatred of strangers; love of country can turn into arrogance toward other states; love of fellow travelers can turn into a desire to suppress anyone with a different opinion

there will always be things that cannot be done unless you stand apart from the institutions that channel and collect power

Because experience cannot be … reduced to symbols,” said Zomi. “Words are slippery, frail things, and powerless to carry the weight of the truth. I can tell you that my Théra is the most beautiful woman in the world or that Aki Kidosu is the best mother anyone can have, but you cannot experience my love through these words. I can tell you that Tenryo is the cruelest conqueror and that Tanvanaki is a most merciless foe, but you cannot feel my hatred through these syllables. Eyewitness accounts have always been subject to doubt, for it is in our nature to want stories but also to be disappointed by how they fall short of the irreducible qualia of lived reality

He stared at the writing knife on the table, imagining opening his own veins with it so that the self-loathing, the weight of inherited sin, could be released along with the blood, to propitiate unrelenting fate.

If learning the truth of the Lyucu atrocities during the conquest made him wish he had never been born Lyucu, the ugliness of court politics in Dara made him question why he had ever seen beauty and hope in the pretty words of the Ano sages.

The nature of all humankind was corrupt and there was nothing new under the sun.

Because the truth is sometimes not what the world needs to be better,” said Zomi, looking weary.

After you have reasoned through the thicket, you must still rely on the compass of the passion-pumped heart. Once you have worked out all the odds, you still have to toss the dice, to take that leap of faith.