Steven Erikson
Steven Erikson
Steven Eriksonis the pseudonym of Steve Rune Lundin, a Canadian novelist, who was educated and trained as both an archaeologist and anthropologist...
NationalityCanadian
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth7 October 1959
CountryCanada
children sacrifice love-is
Children were meant to be gifts. The physical manifestation of love between a man and a woman. And for that love all manner of sacrifice could be borne.
fashion soul soldier
Soldiers are issued armour for their flesh and bones, but they must fashion their own for their souls. Piece by piece. (Itkovian)
agency fire evil
Evil is nothing but a word, an objectification where no objectification is necessary. Cast aside this notion of some external agency as the source of inconceivable inhumanity - the sad truth is our possession of an innate proclivity towards indifference, towards deliberate denial of mercy, towards disengaging all that is moral within us. But if that is too dire , let's call it evil. And paint it with fire and venom.
memories love-you past
I love you still, but with your death I succumbed to a kind of infatuation. I convinced myself that what you and I had, so very briefly, was of far vaster and deeper import than it truly was. Of all the weapons we chose to turn upon ourselves, guilt is the sharpest, Silverfox. It can carve one's own past into unrecognizable shapes, false memories leading to beliefs that sow all kinds of obsessions.
differences followers allies
I was needed, but I myself did not need. I had followers, but not allies, and only now do I understand the difference. And it is vast.
compassion justice promise
Power is violence, its promise, its deed. Power cares nothing for reason, nothing for justice, nothing for compassion. It is, in fact, the singular abnegation of these things - once the cloak of deceits is stripped away, this one truth is revealed.
narrative share born
The only consistent narrative we possess is one that we share with every other life-form: we are born, we live, and then we die.
years stones layers
For we are all bound in stories, and as the years pile up they turn to stone, layer upon layer, building our lives.
expectations way demand
Any reasonable ruler would have the expectation and the demand the other way round.
paradise innocent empty
Paradise belonged to the innocent. Which was why it was and would ever remain empty. And that is what makes it a paradise.
grief break-through effort
Survivors do not mourn together. They each mourn alone, even when in the same place. Grief is the most solitary of all feelings. Grief isolates, and every ritual, every gesture, every embrace, is a hopeless effort to break through that isolation. None of it works. The forms crumble and dissolve. To face death is to stand alone.
struggle fall odds
There is no struggle too vast, no odds too overwhelming, for even should we fail - should we fall - we will know that we have lived.
ignorant dying
The only death I fear is dying ignorant.
grief soul ends
The soul knows no greater anguish than to take a breath that begins with love and ends with grief.