Otho Quotes

So she's not with him?" "No." Otho shrugged. "That's strange." "Why?" Chaol had the sudden urge to strangle him. "Because it looks like he's in love with her," he said, and walked away. Chaol's eyes lost focus for a moment. Then Celaena laughed, and Dorian kept staring at her. The prince hadn't once taken his eyes off her. Dorian's expression was full of--something. Joy? Wonder? His shoulders were straight, his back erect. He looked like a man. Like a king.

But she wasn’t in love with him—Otho hadn’t said that. He had seen no attachment on her part. And Celaena would never be that stupid. It was Dorian who was the fool—Dorian who would have his heart broken, if he did actually love her.

When Ravyn cast his eyes back into the courtyard, Otho was hurrying toward her sister. Hesis lay in the dirt, unmoving. Her mask was broken, shards of bone scattered around her. Blood trickled down her face. "Nightmare," he said through his teeth. The monster laughed as he slipped out of the fort. "She'll live. All I did was pay her back for breaking your nose." "I didn't ask you to do that." "No. But Elspeth did.

You'll want everything. You'll ache for things you can't have, and will never have. Impossible things, and improbable things, and stupid things, and evil things - you'll want them all." Jove smiled a little, his cheek dimpling. "But you'll also get things. Things you want. And...they'll make your life full, and they'll make it so you can keep going, and..." He shrugged. "They'll keep you warm." Otho wanted so badly to be warm again. He touched Jove's cheek, turning the other boy's head toward his. He leaned in slowly, as if asking for permission, and Jove closed the gap, his lips pressing to Otho's.

When we stood thus on the crest of the Marble Cliffs, Brother Otho would often say that this was the meaning of life: reenacting creation in the ephemeral, the way a child at play imitates his father's work. What gives meaning to sowing and procreation, to building and establishing order, to images and poetry, is that the masterwork is reflected in them as in a mirror of multicolored glass that soon shatters.

[Galba] was killed beside the Lake of Curtius​ and was left lying just as he was, until a common soldier, returning from a distribution of grain, threw down his load and cut off the head. Then, since there was no hair by which to grasp it, he put it under his robe, but later thrust his thumb into the mouth and so carried it to Otho. He handed it over to his servants and camp followers, who set it on a lance and paraded it about the camp with jeers, crying out from time to time, "Galba, thou Cupid, exult in thy vigour!" From these it was bought by a freedman of Patrobius Neronianus for a hundred pieces of gold and thrown aside in the place where his patron had been executed by Galba's order. ... [Galba's] hands and feet were so distorted by gout that he could not endure a shoe for long, unroll a book, or even hold one. The flesh on his right side too had grown out and hung down to such an extent, that it could with difficulty be held in place by a bandage. He was more inclined to unnatural desire,​a and in gratifying it preferred full-grown, strong men. They say that when Icelus, one of his old-time favourites, brought him news in Spain of Nero's death, he not only received him openly with the fondest kisses, but begged him to prepare himself without delay and took him aside.

Grandeur," said Pangloss, "is extremely dangerous according to the testimony of philosophers. For, in short, Eglon, King of Moab,[Pg 167] was assassinated by Ehud; Absalom was hung by his hair, and pierced with three darts; King Nadab, the son of Jeroboam, was killed by Baasa; King Ela by Zimri; Ahaziah by Jehu; Athaliah by Jehoiada; the Kings Jehoiakim, Jeconiah, and Zedekiah, were led into captivity. You know how perished Crœsus, Astyages, Darius, Dionysius of Syracuse, Pyrrhus, Perseus, Hannibal, Jugurtha, Ariovistus, Cæsar, Pompey, Nero, Otho, Vitellius, Domitian, Richard II. of England, Edward II., Henry VI., Richard III., Mary Stuart, Charles I., the three Henrys of France, the Emperor Henry IV.! You know——" "I know also," said Candide, "that we must cultivate our garden.

The old ingrained human passion for power matured and burst into prominence with the growth of the empire. With straiter resources equality was easily preserved. But when once we had brought the world to our feet and exterminated every rival state or king, we were left free to covet power without fear of interruption. It was then that strife first broke out between patricians and plebeians: at one time arose seditious tribunes,295 at another tyrannous consuls: 296 in the Forum at Rome were sown the first seeds of civil war. Before long, Marius, rising from the lowest ranks of the people, and Sulla, the most cruel of all the nobles, crushed our liberty by force of arms and substituted a despotism. Then came Pompey, whose aims, though less patent, were no better than theirs. From that time onwards the one end sought was supreme power in the state. Even at Pharsalia and Philippi the citizen armies did not lay down their arms. How then can we suppose that the troops of Otho and Vitellius would have willingly stopped the war? The same anger of heaven, the same human passions, the same criminal motives drove them into discord. True these wars were each settled by a single battle, but that was due to the generals' cowardice. However, my reflections on the ancient and the modern character have carried me too far: I must now resume the thread of our narrative.

Chaol watched Dorian dip Celaena, watched the way her lips widened in a smile and her eyes burst with light as the Crown Prince said something. Even with the mask on, Chaol could see the happiness written across her face. “Is he with her?” Otho asked. “The Lady Lillian belongs to herself, and no one else.” “So she’s not with him?” “No.” Otho shrugged. “That’s strange.” “Why?” Chaol had the sudden urge to strangle him. “Because it looks like he’s in love with her,” he said, and walked away.

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The Nightmare sprang off the post. He struck the snout of Hesis’s mask with the heel of his palm, an ugly crack echoing in the yard. She screamed, dropped her rapier. Otho bolted toward her sister, but Ravyn surged forward—caught her with a broad arm—slammed her onto the dirt. When she tried to reach for her blade, Jespyr pressed a boot onto her arm.

The one in the ram mask was called Otho, and her sister, with the wolf skull, Hesis.

I’d enjoy seeing their ship hit hard enough to splash them all over Callisto,” hissed the emotional android. Captain Future grinned. “You’re too bloodthirsty, Otho.” Otho stared at him puzzledly. “I can’t understand you humans some times,” he complained. Curt chuckled. Then he turned his attention below, ready for action.

Three months later, in the month of Ianuarius AD 69, Galba was murdered by his rival Otho, who then set himself up as emperor, removing and killing several friends and confidants of the late emperor. Drusus had escaped Rome just in time.

His shoulders were straight, his back erect. He looked like a man. Like a king. It was impossible for such a thing to have occurred; and when would it have happened? Otho was a drunk and a womanizer. What did he know of love? Dorian spun Celaena with speed and dexterity, and she snapped into his arms, her shoulders rising with exhilaration. But she wasn’t in love with him—Otho hadn’t said that. He had seen no attachment on her part. And Celaena would never be that stupid. It was Dorian who was the fool—Dorian who would have his heart broken, if he did actually love her. Unable to look at his friend any longer, the Captain of the Guard left the ball. Kaltain watched in rage and agony as Lillian Gordaina and the Crown Prince of Adarlan danced and danced and danced. Even with a much more concealing mask, she would have recognized the upstart. And what sort of a person wore gray to a ball? Kaltain looked down at her dress and smiled. Bright shades of blue, emerald, and soft brown, her gown and matching peacock mask had cost as much as a small house. It was all a gift from Perrington, of course, along with the jewelry that decorated much of her neck and arms. It was certainly not the dull, drab mess of crystal that the conniving harlot wore. Perrington stroked her arm, and Kaltain turned to him with fluttering eyelashes. “You look handsome tonight, my love,” she said, adjusting a gold chain across his red tunic. His face quickly matched the color of his clothes. She wondered if she could bear the repulsion of kissing him. She could always keep refusing, just as she had for the past

The psychopathic elderly twin brothers who own this company want to amass immeasurable wealth, and they think nothing of addicting those who use their product. Afterall, addiction ensures product growth. And, they are quite willing to kill anyone who threatens their success

Washington DC is two cities. One, the city of grand monuments and museums, broad boulevards and majestic government buildings. The other, the city of crime and fear.

The woman is already under enough stress. I don't want to add to her pain. Not yet anyway. And I sure don't want her to go to pieces on me. I hate it when women go to pieces on me while I'm conducting an interview

I've had to work with a lot of people with dubious backgrounds. They often want to tell me about their lives, criminal and otherwise. I don't want to hear any of it. They want to be friends and buddies. I don't

Being a teacher at a university was never in the cards for me. I'm too impatient, too outspoken, too much of a troublemaker to fit into the serene life of higher education. I would have been a pariah in the faculty lounge

Washington is two cities. One, the city of grand monuments and museums, broad boulevards, and majestic government buildings. The other, the city of crime and fear.

In my experience, if I’m faced with a dangerous opponent who is threatening me, it makes sense to talk them down. I’ll offer him or her a deal. That’s far better than drawing a gun and shooting someone. Guns make negotiations impossible. Most people would rather talk than die.

There are good people here. God-fearing, honest, hard¬workin’ people. You gotta be careful with them. They can be big trouble.

Marcus located the other volumes and piled them on the table, then began to skim through the text. From the sternly moralistic Augustus, power had passed to the dour Tiberius, who had ended in utter debauchery and left the world at the mercy of the monstrous Caligula, whose bloody death had led to the reign of the hapless Claudius, cuckolded by one wife, Messalina, and probably murdered by another, Agrippina, who had put her son Nero on the throne and been rewarded with death. After Nero had come four emperors in quick succession: Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and then Vespasian, the bland but competent general who had left the empire to his sons, first the popular Titus, then the suspicious and cruel Domitian. There Suetonius’s account ended, but Marcus needed no historian to tell him about the reigns of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian.

Besides Tiberius, Nero, Otho and Vespasian all had their astrologer. Titus, Domitian and Hadrian were sufficiently expert themselves to draw up a horoscope, and Septimius Severus (who married Julia Domna after making enquiries about marriageable daughters of royal blood) dispensed justice in a hall of the palace where his own astral horoscope was painted on the ceiling (DC, 77, 11, 1).

Otho grunted. “Ill-gotten gains,” he grumbled. “Anyone who touches it will be stained with the blood of their victims!” “I’m not fussy,” Armand answered,

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That is wiser," agreed Om-at; "but I might mention, for your information, that the one and only god has a long tail." "It is sacrilege," cried Ta-den, laying his hand upon his knife; "Jad-ben-Otho has no tail!" "Stop!" shrieked Om-at, springing forward; but instantly Tarzan interposed himself between them. "Enough!" he snapped. "Let us be true to our oaths of friendship that we may be honorable in the sight of God in whatever form we conceive Him.