The Unbroken Cl Clark Quotes

You don't find a life. You have to make one, with the people around you and the causes you put your strength into.

As it whistles through the mountains, as it tickles blades of grass, as it pulls me from my bed, again, the wind, it cries your name.

She was here because she was a soldier. A fighter. She didn't know anything else, and she was good at it...It would be the death of her, but she'd always expected that.

Touraine was starting to think it was impossible to come from one land and learn to live in another and feel whole. That you would always stand on shaky, hole-ridden ground, half of your identity dug out of you and tossed away.

She was as free now as she ever would be. She could choose what she fought for. She could choose who she was willing to die for.

Who needs a god of oceans when I could drown inside your eyes? Who needs a god of grain when I could feast between your thighs?

Know a person's desires, and you have leverage- Give a person their desires, and you have an extension of your own will

They took each other in one last time. The moment seemed to stretch, until Jaghotai held out her forearm. Touraine clasped it. „We pray for rain,” Touraine said. „No.” Jaghotai squeezed Touraine's arm tightly. „Be the rain.” The rebels descended on the compound like a summer storm.

Leave no enemy behind you unless you've severed his head.

And you couldn’t own anything if you were owned yourself.

Have they seen you bleed? Have they seen you kill anyone? Does she know your voice when you’re scared? Could she pick your laugh out of a crowd?

There were moments that defined empires, that determined how a reign would be remembered. Luca would look back on this day, years later, and know that this was one such moment.

„What do you want me to do, Touraine?” Luca gestured in the direction of Cantic's office. „Tell Cantic to never let them fight again?” „That's the problem, Luca.” Touraine gestured through the sandstone walls at Cantic's office and toward the city, too. Her eyes burned, and all of Cheminade's old junk blurred. Her voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. „It's not a matter of let. They never chose this. They're not getting rewarded for valor with ribbons and raises. We just die, and when we die, we're not even worth the wood to burn us.

Then, still holding the cup, Touraine giggled. This broad-shouldered, muscle-bound ex-soldier, who spent most of her time either glowering or bowing at people, had smirked at her future queen, and now she was actually giggling. Sky above, Luca wanted to do right by that laugh. She wanted Touraine to giggle at her, to smirk and smile and tease her. She hated to want it.

You’ll have to fight for one side or the other. Why not fight for the side that gives you freedom?” “Because I can fight for the side that’s winning.” “Winning isn’t everything. It’s how you win that matters most.

I’m too busy trying to quell a rebellion started by her people.” “A rebellion started by her people to protest the fact that we came and invaded in the first place. Your Highness.

And then Luca smiled ruefully and shook her head. “I want you sober or not at all. But—” She covered Touraine’s hand with her own again. “Would you… like to stay?” Luca said. Her voice was a little raw. “To sleep.

Touraine sank back into the too-soft pillows. Everything she’d ever wanted, and nothing at all at the same time.

You don’t find a life. You have to make one, with the people around you and the causes you put your strength into.

Release her, Captain, or Guard Lanquette will release your testicles from your body.

her assumption that she could control any and all of the consequences from this one deal, made her seem naive at best, arrogant at worst, drunk with self-confidence.

Balladaire, land of honey and whips. That poisonous combination of fear and hope had kept the Sands in line for ages. Had kept Touraine in line for ages.

Touraine wanted to apologize again. She wanted to start over and ask, How are you? And yet she was so tired of apologizing to people who didn’t care for her and hers.

Their lives paralleled Touraine’s own displacement, though, of course, their displacement had been by choice. And didn’t risk their lives. And was more profitable on the whole.

You will never have to sell yourself to live.

She’s already given you an act of faith.” “Good faith, from the faithless?

She could see the shape of empire in Luca’s words.

And Touraine hesitated. This blackcoat wasn’t an officer. She hadn’t given the order to kill anyone outside a cell. But she was a part of this, and she had never stopped it. She was Balladaire’s pawn.

Touraine waited three long breaths before she growled, “Can I kill him, or do you want to?” Despite the tension only just beginning to unspool from her shoulders, Luca couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s take turns,” she said.

Tonight, Luca was downstairs in the town house’s sitting room, where she often spent the evening reading a book or treatise or whatever it was she did for fun.

As Aimée liked to say on campaign—and in the canteen, and in training exercises—wishes were like assholes. Full of shit.

What is war if not a complicated web of mathematics and charm? Luca thought.

Time to play the role, then. To gather all the pieces to her and see how she could make them move.