Remnants Of Filth Quotes

Light was something you gave me; warmth was something you brought me. All the blood that races through my heart is because of you. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it to today.

I will give it to you. I'll give you a home.

Get blood on me—I don’t mind. Give me your hand. No matter how dirty you are, I will embrace you. No matter how much it hurts, I will stay with you. No matter how far it is, I will bring you home.

It was you who gave me faith...and in the end, you were the reason I lost that faith. You said I didn't care about anything, that I had nothing to lose, so it didn't matter. But when you stepped onto that path, do you know what I lost? I was never the person who didn't care. It was you.

He only knew that Gu Mang was alive. That was enough.

You remember his malice, but you’re unable to forget his kindness,” the emperor continued. “You hate that he yet lives, but if you were to really see his blood spilled, your heart couldn’t handle it.

They were enemies, separated by a chasm of accumulated hatred only death could resolve. But before this had come to pass, before they had parted ways, these two youths had once been passionately entangled—until love became one with desire. Until they were loath to part.

Light was something you gave me; warmth was something you brought me. All the blood that races through my heart is because of you. Without you, I wouldn't have made it to today.

Gu Mang had been his companion, his rival, his shixiong, his comrade in arms - and in the end, Gu Mang became an enemy he was meant to slaughter.

You nearly killed me.” Just because, back then, I loved you more than I feared death.

Don't worry, even if you're no longer a noble young master, you'll always be you. There's an ember in your heart, and sooner or later, it will glow. I can see it, and others will too.

Of course it obeys me.” he said with barely contained fury. ”Because your sigil used my blood, and your sigil was drawn by my hand, because...the one who created this array was never you - it was me.

After Gu Mang had sobered, he stopped shouting. Yet for some reason, Mo Xi always got the feeling that although Gu Mang was smiling, there was something else behind that smile - something he couldn't clearly see.

None of the knew what this noble young master who `didn't understand their suffering` had secretly sacrificed to keep them alive - to ensure those born with Gu Mang's same status wouldn't be condemned to a lifetime of powerlessness from the day they were born.

Ah, to be honest, it was only because of Gu Mang that I enlisted. I once even drank with him around a fire. He didn't put on any airs, either. Back then...back then, as I watched him laugh, I thought - if one day I could die for him in battle, it would be a good way to go.

I’ve never been drunk. Only once did I have a little too much, just that once. You saw me, you teased me, and you forgave me. From then on, I kept myself strictly in check and never allowed myself such lack of restraint again. How did you forget? How could you forget? How dare you forget!

One could have said that he'd lived twenty-seven years without evr making a single major mistake. Except for Gu Mang. For Mo Xi, Gu Mang was like ink on a paper or mud in the snow, the suggestive smear of blood left upon the pristine white of a gentleman's bedsheets. He was the stain on Mo Xi's life.

The only circumstance under which Mo Xi could imagine amiably sharing a jug of wine with Gu Mang was in a cemetery, with Gu Mang buried in the earth, and himself standing upon it. Then he might talk to the man like he once had, and place a bouquet of red peonies shaped from spiritual energy on his grave.

But…you look like you’re in pain…like it really hurts. “Hating me, it hurts you?

His very presence seem to bring laughter and sweetness to the battlefield, as thought such places could be more than freezing cold and crimson blood.

Was this what meant to reap what you sow? To be the arhitect of your own destruction?

He was like an idiot beyond saving, angrily reminding himself he could never again make the same mistake while continuing to hang himself again and again on the same tree.

Getting on your knees denotes submission, humility, and deference. But there's none of that in your face. You've only bent your knees; your back is still straight.

It won't hurt anymore once I'm used to it. If I endure it, it'll pass.... all of this will pass.

Delicate lines rippled over the lake’s surface, the shattered motes of reflected light like a skyful of flickering stars.

He grew jealous of Gu Mang, doubted him, and stripped him off his authority. He even crossed a line Gu Mang couldn't possibly endure. Mo Xi watched Gu Mang fall into the abyss with his own eyes.

He thought of Gu Mang in their academy days, standing with his back to Mo Xi and sighing with exasperation. `Shidi, you work too hard. Can you still move your legs? Come here, get on my back. I'll take you home.

It was Gu Mang who had brought his brothers crawling back, who had returned the bodies of the dead. He'd seen hope, he'd seen the future, and so he had roared, enduring it all to say: ”Come, everything's okay, You've named me General Gu, so I'll bring you home no matter what.

Gu Mang was a man of his word. He traded fur coats for wine and spirit jades for meat, and once he even took off all his military robes and armour and tossed them on the bar in exchange for nuerhong rice wine, at which point the army thugs started laughing and heckling him `General Gu, we want beef too. Do you have anything else you could take off?

...although the death of an old friend was agonizing, it could not compare to the pain of an old friend irrevocably changed. When he thought of how this person yet remained on the earth but could never return to the past; of how their deep emotion had decayed, how their shared path had split into two unlike roads, how his beloved had become his enemy -- that was a suffering that brought agony with each breath,

Li Wei thought, Tell you? What am I supposed to tell you? Have you seen that temper of yours?! If I said Gu Mang might not have understood Wangshu-jun’s question, you’d leap to your feet and kick me to death!

Mo Xi. It's fine, don't be sad. No matter what, we'll always be together. No matter how hard things get, I'll pull this through. Come on, let's go home.” -Gu Mang

...impulses start off potent, and wane as time passes and consideration sets in.

Gu Mang didn't understand that some people's hearts shouldn't be touched. They never played around; rather, they were the solitary guardians of the pure affection they held cupped in their hands. They had only a little bit of romance in their hearts, just enough to lavish on a singular person in all their life.

Mo Xi, for me, the way up is a dead end. I have nowhere to go - I can only fumble toward hell.

No matter what, I'll wait for you. I'll keep waiting, no matter how long it takes. But remember this: If you lie to me again - if I find out you're still lying to me - I won't be stabbed in the same place twice.

I'm worthy of being called your shige, your brother. Get blood on me - I don't mind. Give me your hand. No matter how dirty you are, I will embrace you. No matter how much it hurts, I will stay with you. No matter how far it is, I will bring you home. -Gu Mang

I don't know what a `lord` is. But...it sounds okay. I want it to be you. -Gu Mang

No. There were men there from all over the Highlands—from every clan, almost. Only a few men from each clan—remnants and ragtag. But the more in need of a chief, for all that.” “And that’s what you were to them?” I spoke gently, restraining the urge to smooth the line away with my fingers. “For lack of any better,” he said, with the flicker of a smile. He had come from the bosom of family and tenants, from a strength that had sustained him for seven years, to find a lack of hope and a loneliness that would kill a man faster than the damp and the filth and the quaking ague of the prison. And so, quite simply, he had taken the ragtag and remnants, the castoff survivors of the field of Culloden, and made them his own, that they and he might

No. There were men there from all over the Highlands—from every clan, almost. Only a few men from each clan—remnants and ragtag. But the more in need of a chief, for all that.” “And that’s what you were to them?” I spoke gently, restraining the urge to smooth the line away with my fingers. “For lack of any better,” he said, with the flicker of a smile. He had come from the bosom of family and tenants, from a strength that had sustained him for seven years, to find a lack of hope and a loneliness that would kill a man faster than the damp and the filth and the quaking ague of the prison. And so, quite simply, he had taken the ragtag and remnants, the castoff survivors of the field of Culloden, and made them his own, that they and he might survive the stones of Ardsmuir as well.

I have seen your world, little beast. I have drunk of its terror and hope. Humans fear the darkness that gave them birth and harness the light to outshine the stars. They build machines that cough with smoke and poison the very air. They suck up the blood of the earth and pour filth into the seas. They speak boldly of freedom and peace and think they can buy them with war. Money is their temple and greed their god. They stand in defiance of all that is real, turning magic into myth, myth into Remnants, choosing to live in a cold dead dream.

Believe me…My princess, my royal highness. Because…if even you lose faith in me… If even you lose faith in me, then I truly will be fighting on my own. I will really be alone. Believe in me, won’t you…?