Legends And Lattes Quotes

Things don’t have to stay as what they started out as.

WHAT FLAMES COULD NOT CONSUME, NEVER SHALL BE EXTINGUISHED

it was like drinking the feeling of being peaceful. Being peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it’s something else.

She was smiling, and for the first time, the building, the city, this place… felt like hers. A place she’d still be tomorrow, the week after, next season, next year…. Home.

Because I’m headed down the hill, and you’re headed up it. I’m just glad we chanced to meet on the way.

So. I might not deserve you. And you might forgive too much. But I’m damned glad to have you.

Live long enough, you realize some folks can be handed a problem and some tools, and they’ll sort it out. And I never think twice about hiring that sort of fellow.

Shut up, you insufferable shitweasel,

Calamity." His own callused paw was swallowed by hers. Her eyes widened. "Hob name," he said. "You can call me Cal." "Whichever you like best. I don't need your name to suit me.

Well, shit. Milky bean water. I'll be damned.

See you in the story past the story.

The combined aromas of hot cinnamon, ground coffee, and sweet cardamom intoxicated her, and as she brewed and smiled and served and chatted, a deep contentment welled up. It was a glowing warmth she’d never experienced before, and she liked it. She liked it a great deal.

Never trust a writer who doesn’t have too many books to read. Or a reader, for that matter,” said Zelia.

I don't know if I can explain it, but watching you read what I give you, putting a book in your hands and seeing what happens to you once you put it back down... I can't make you understand how that gives me something I didn't know I had to have.

You do something for years and years, and the only reason you continue is because once you stop, you won't really have anything.

You’re just trying to make it to the other end, and while you’re in it, there’s nothing to either side. Only the way forward. You know, the tunnel. Maybe when you find a way out, you can look around, but until then …

After twenty-two years of adventuring, Viv had reached her limit of blood and mud and bullshit. An orc’s life was strength and violence and a sudden, sharp end—but she’d be damned if she’d let hers finish that way. It was time for something new.

Ladies' stockin's and exotic bean water. Gods help us.

have to be fully rid of it. Not yet.” Then, in a rush, “I was just thinking that you don’t have to forget who you were … because that’s what brought you here.

Then, in a rush, “I was just thinking that you don’t have to forget who you were … because that’s what brought you here.

You know, there’s a lot of people out there. Lot of noise. I love what I do, love it every day, but none of us sees more than a tiny piece of all the world, like we’re lookin’ out a little-bitty window. And I saw you through mine, and somethin’ inside me said, ‘That’s somebody you oughta know.’ Simple as that.

It’s nice work,” said Viv. “Hm.” “At least, I expect it is. I don’t know much about boats,” she admitted. “I expect that dulls the compliment a touch, then,

His eyes widened. “Well, shit. Milky bean water. I’ll be damned.” He took another, longer sip and burned his tongue.

Viv didn’t answer for a moment, but then she stared hard at him. “Things don’t have to stay as what they started out as.

A pleasure,” said Viv. It wasn’t.

Accurately slinging a slab of metal and striking a target was squarely within the realm of her abilities.

I used to be an adventurer like you.

for. She found it in half-lidded eyes and a slow, deliberate swallow. In cupped hands around the warmth of a mug and the lingering enjoyment of the last taste.

As Hemington paid, Viv handed him a roll on a piece of waxed paper and leveled a glare at him. “If you don’t eat this, it’s possible Tandri or I may have to kill you.” The young man laughed, although the laugh became strangled when Viv didn’t join in.

The glow in The Perch dimmed, her corner untouched by the blast of light and heat from the hearth across the room, so she asked for a lantern to read by. The kid obliged, and despite the uncomfortable chair and the ache in her leg and the backwater in which she’d been abandoned, she was absorbed. She was transported. She was elsewhere.

I was just thinking that you don’t have to forget who you were … because that’s what brought you here.

and went back to swabbing the grime of the bar-top into new and more interesting locations.

I'm used to sleeping rough.' 'Used to ain't the same as ought to.

Every book is a little mirror, and sometimes you look into it and see someone else looking back.

People just sat around drinking it from these little ceramic cups, and I had to try it, and... it was like drinking the feeling of being peaceful. Being peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it's something else.

Viv stayed quiet. Sometimes, that was just what you had to do.

At this point, she figured that if enemies from across the sea lay siege to the fortress walls, there would still be a line at Sea-Song. And some of the besiegers would probably be in it.

You've found a very peaceful place here. A special place. You've planted something, and now its blossoming. Very nice. A good spot to rest. My thanks to you for letting an old-timer shade under the branches of what you've grown.

Hers was a potent dialect of emotion, rich with meaning, comprehensible only to those intimately aware of its subtleties. Tandri didn’t have to say yes. The language was understood. And when her lips found Viv’s, no doubt could have survived.

If there was any justice in the world, I'd never have met you, much less have even a scrap of your regard. And for a while... I thought maybe I'd cheated fate to have you near me. That I was bending the rules—forcing some impossible streak of luck—and any moment, you'd find out who I really was, and then you'd be gone. (...) But what a stupid thing to think. Unfair to you. Did I think so little of you? Did I think you couldn't see who I was, really? Was I foolish enough to believe I could make you see something other than what was there?

Little twirls of smoke dotted the rooftops, like freshly extinguished candles.

I gotta ask, is that the same mug you're always cleaning or they all get a chance?

She thought about what Tandri had said just a day ago about reciprocity. Pain that was ignored, magnified on its return.

It’s perfect,” he whispered, and his oil-drop eyes brimmed.

And as Tandri laughed, waiting for the full story, Viv was grateful for all the wrong times that had led to this right one.

I've got respect for people who have to get their hands dirty to get things done. That's just work. No, it takes something special to be a real asshole, and I think she and I are of the same mind.

You’re just trying to make it to the other end, and while you’re in it, there’s nothing to either side. Only the way forward. You know, the tunnel. Maybe when you find a way out, you can look around, but until then

After twenty-two years of adventuring, Viv had reached her limit of blood and mud and bullshit. An orc's life was strength and violence and a sudden sharp end - but she'd be damned if she'd let hers finish that way. It was time for something new.

Viv glanced sidelong at Laney’s mug of tea. “Say, you ever have coffee?” she asked. Laney blinked at her and looked affronted. “Why, I never have. And the way I was brought up, a lady doesn’t talk about her maladies,” she said primly. Viv barked a laugh, to the old woman’s great annoyance.

I guess I haven’t had much time for … acquaintances the past few years. I’m out of practice.” Cracking an eye at her, Viv said, “You’re in the tunnel. I know how it goes.” “The tunnel?” “You’re just trying to make it to the other end, and while you’re in it, there’s nothing to either side. Only the way forward. You know, the tunnel. Maybe when you find a way out, you can look around, but until then …

A piercing snap resounded from above as the pressure in the room changed, and then green poured across the ceiling like blood down a blade. She heard brittle, sharp cracks as the roof tiles burst like popping corn.

Viv kept her face carefully neutral, thinking of Laney’s cake.

Eventually, she managed, “I guess that’s true.” The conversation moved on.

we got the metabolism of hummingbirds,

little ribbons of fire crept up the wall

She looked at the decorations inside the pub, here an oil painting in an old gilt frame, there a huge ceramic vase on the floor with fresh ferns to sweeten the air.

Laney blinked at her and looked affronted. “Why, I never have. And the way I was brought up, a lady doesn’t talk about her maladies,” she said primly.

while her tone was as even as ever, Viv thought she caught the ghost of a smile.

I’m rarely wrong. It’s been known to happen, but I don’t like to let on.

By the time they’d finished talking, Hemington had drained his mug and was crunching the ice between his teeth.

As dawn glimmered, the green flames sputtered and died, as if they fed on the night as much as on earthly fuel.

WHAT FLAMES COULD NOT CONSUME, NEVER SHALL BE EXTINGUISHED

But he pressed no further, and that was that.

She sat back on the flagstones and rolled the bean between her thumb and forefinger. “I told you I came across it in Azimuth, and I remember following the smell to the shop. They called it a café. People just sat around drinking it from these little ceramic cups, and I had to try it, and … it was like drinking the feeling of being peaceful. Being peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it’s something else.

She drank more deeply, and when she wiped her mouth, she looked over at Viv. “No pearls of wisdom?” “Nope.” Tandri’s eyebrows rose. “But I will say…” Viv glanced over to regard Tandri solemnly. “Fuck those motherfuckers.” Tandri’s surprised laugh startled the birds from the cherry trees.

Viv leaned on the counter, studying their faces, and saw, at last, what she’d been too nervous to hope for. She found it in half-lidded eyes and a slow, deliberate swallow. In cupped hands around the warmth of a mug and the lingering enjoyment of the last taste. It was the echo of her own experience, and a pleasant flush of recognition washed over her.

I thought, a university! That's a place where ideas are challenged: where what you do matters, not where you came from or what you came from. A place where logic, and math, and science would prove that I'm more than what I was born to. But it seems I take that with me wherever I go.

Huh. I had no idea how this was going to work from the drawings, and now I'm even more confused.

Viv saw it with the big stable doors thrown wide, perhaps a few tables there in the entry to catch the breeze and the sun.

She couldn’t help wondering who had interviewed whom.

Tandri’s icy glare

pastoral paintings that Viv thought looked blurry, but Tandri maintained were evocative.

Tandri’s surprised laugh startled the birds from the cherry trees.

The deeper she ventured, the more stone prevailed, as though the city had calcified as it aged.

was just thinking that you don’t have to forget who you were … because that’s what brought you here.

Oh, and hey! What in the eight hells is coffee?

enormous dick.

hard sausage,

Thimble appeared before they opened the doors, another list clutched in his paws. It wasn’t particularly long. “Currants, walnuts, oranges … cardamom?” Viv asked, with a puzzled expression. Thimble nodded ardently. “I don’t even know what that last one is. And the rolls are already perfect!” The rattkin wrung his hands and looked aggrieved. “Trust,” he whispered.

Any idea where I can get all this?” Viv asked Tandri. “Not immediately, no. I’m sure I can find a baker, but…” Thimble interrupted by pulling on Viv’s sleeve and pointing to himself. “I show.” “Oh. Sure. Well, no time like the present, I guess. Tandri, you’re fine with holding things down ’til we get back?” “Of course.” The rattkin shifted from foot to foot and stared longingly at the coffee machine. “Coffee first?” he pleaded.

LEGENDS & LATTES ~ MENU ~ Coffee ~ exotic aroma & rich, full-bodied roast—½ bit Latte ~ a sophisticated and creamy variation—1 bit Any drink ICED ~ a refined twist—add ½ bit Cinnamon Roll ~ heavenly frosted cinnamon pastry—4 bits Thimblets ~ crunchy nut & fruit delicacies—2 bits * FINER TASTES FOR THE ~ WORKING GENT & LADY ~

Honestly, Viv doubted you could eat very much of it. That bitterness would overwhelm you. But the old spice-seller was right. The kid was a genius, and she couldn’t wait to see what he had planned. Tandri thoughtfully rolled the taste around in her mouth. “Okay, I’ll ask again, because I have to know. What is this?” He leaned forward, whiskers aquiver. “Chocolate.

Well, I could always kill him,” said Viv. Tandri just stared at her. “Joking,” muttered Viv. Was she, though?

While the dough rose, he approached with a nervous twitch of whiskers and whispered, “Latte?

LEGENDS & LATTES ~ MENU ~ Coffee ~ exotic aroma & rich, full-bodied roast—½ bit Latte ~ a sophisticated and creamy variation—1 bit Cinnamon Roll ~ heavenly frosted cinnamon pastry—4 bits * FINER TASTES FOR THE ~ WORKING GENT & LADY ~

Well, shit. Milky bean water. I’ll be damned.

Things don't have to stay as what they started out as

But I will say…” Viv glanced over to regard Tandri solemnly. “Fuck those motherfuckers.

peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it’s something else.

I didn't catch your name" "You didn't. But fair exchange is no robbery. Didn't catch yours, either.

She'd forsworn her old life, crossing a bridge to a new land, and now knelt in its ruin.

Ley lines were clearly threaded beneath the city, powerful avenues of thaumic energy. Scholars debated whether they grew where people settled or gathered folk near like warmth in winter.

An orc’s life was strength and violence and a sudden, sharp end—but she’d be damned if she’d let hers finish that way. It was time for something new.

Viv glanced sidelong at Laney’s mug of tea. “Say, you ever have coffee?” she asked. Laney blinked at her and looked affronted. “Why, I never have. And the way I was brought up, a lady doesn’t talk about her maladies,” she said primly.

Viv was a fast study and a reasonable hand with a hammer and nails. Accurately slinging a slab of metal and striking a target was squarely within the realm of her abilities.

No pearls of wisdom?” “Nope.” Tandri’s eyebrows rose. “But I will say . . .” Viv glanced over to regard Tandri solemnly. “Fuck those motherfuckers.

People tend not to notice what’s in front of them until it nearly knocks them down.

Failing that, it’s always a good idea to let your enemies soften each other up first. Wait until the dust settles, and poke through the ashes.

Hate to see the place burn to the ground,” said Kellin, with an extremely punchable grin on his face.

They're kidding themselves, of course. Our sky can go from lapis to tin in the blink of an eye. Blink again and your latte's diluted. And that's just fine with me. I thrive here on the certainty that no matter how parched my glands, how anhydrous the creek beds, how withered the weeds in the lawn, it's only a matter of time before the rains come home. The rains will steal down from the Sasquatch slopes. They will rise with the geese from the marshes and sloughs. Rain will fall in sweeps, it will fall in drones, it will fall in cascades of cheap Zen jewelry. And it will rain a fever. And it will rain a sacrifice. And it will rain sorceries and saturnine eyes of the totem. Rain will primitivize the cities, slowing every wheel, animating every gutter, diffusing commercial neon into smeary blooms of esoteric calligraphy. Rain will dramatize the countryside, sewing pearls into every web, winding silk around every stump, redrawing the horizon line with a badly frayed brush dipped in tea and quicksilver. And it will rain an omen. And it will rain a trance. And it will rain a seizure. And it will rain dangers and pale eggs of the beast. Rain will pour for days unceasing. Flooding will occur. Wells will fill with drowned ants, basements with fossils. Mossy-haired lunatics will roam the dripping peninsulas. Moisture will gleam on the beak of the Raven. Ancient shamans, rained from their rest in dead tree trunks, will clack their clamshell teeth in the submerged doorways of video parlors. Rivers will swell, sloughs will ferment. Vapors will billow from the troll-infested ditches, challenging windshield wipers, disgusing intentions and golden arches. Water will stream off eaves and umbrellas. It will take on the colors of beer signs and headlamps. It will glisten on the claws of nighttime animals. And it will rain a screaming. And it will rain a rawness. And it will rain a disorder, and hair-raising hisses from the oldest snake in the world. Rain will hiss on the freeways. It will hiss around the prows of fishing boats. It will hiss in the electrical substations, on the tips of lit cigarettes, and in the trash fires of the dispossessed. Legends will wash from desecrated burial grounds, graffiti will run down alley walls. Rain will eat the old warpaths, spill the huckleberries, cause toadstools to rise like loaves. It will make poets drunk and winos sober, and polish the horns of the slugs. And it will rain a miracle. And it will rain a comfort. And it will rain a sense of salvation from the philistinic graspings of the world. Yes, I am here for the weather. And when I am lowered at last into a pit of marvelous mud, a pillow of fern and skunk cabbage beneath my skull, I want my epitaph to read, IT RAINED ON HIS PARADE, AND HE WAS GLAD!