Author of quotes: Olga Brileva. Page 4

Sometimes silence says no less than words.

If everything was right, Joan wouldn't have thought that to betray his Master.
But now all was wrong, and to betray his Host is the only way to save him.
Does it ever happen: to bring - the only way to save?

Juan felt that the bond between him and the Owner are weakened. Not only because of the Mistress and her songs, but due to the fact that the Owner was perfect. Every time he did Bad, of his soul, someone pulled out a piece. If this goes on, the Owner will not be very, and who then will be the Juan?

The owner wanted to be like his Father, and the Father laughed and the Owner laughed too and then he forced himself to forget that it's Bad. The owner had forgotten - as Juan remembered. Because it's Bad, too, left a mark, and even more. It was high and strange, what Juan did not understand, but accepted: the Owner remembered my first Bad - and it was though him, but not him. And the second Bad Master tried to forget - and it got him inside, into the heart.

He wept, along with Juan, his face buried in his neck, gaining handfuls of his fur. There they were alone, no one else. The owner did not want the Brethren to know that he is also able to cry. He tried to be like his Father - the same strong, which knows no doubt, no remorse. Beloved Brother like Father more, but the Owner tried...

- The trouble with many people is that they think that you half to stay loyal - Gorthauer walked down the hall in the opposite direction. - Aloud, they will say what they want, will do what is ordered, but out there in the depths, the soul will remain faithful to his previous convictions... When they realize that it is impossible - it's too late. Beliefs which they so carefully kept themselves judged them, and they themselves sentenced and executed. Beren was already dead, Illo. You cannot save half of the soul can only burn that they worshiped, and worship that were burned.

- Why now? If you're so eager to fight, Nelo, if you're utterly tired of life, Kano, if Wenin is ready for you into the fire and into the water, then why now, when everything reeks of betrayal? Why not a little later, when all will become clear?
- You are too much to deal with the dwarves, Caranthir, - narrowed maedros. And, as you can see, have contracted from them by the greed and caution. Never everything is clear. Or, if you want: all becomes clear only when it is too late to change anything. When the bodies swaying on the waves, or burning ships, or filthy Orc pushes you in the mouth the his whip - then everything is clear: it was not necessary to do what you did. The only problem is that you're doing or waiting for - all the same it's too late. I prefer to act.

He asked me to check his words under torture. What have I become, if I hear that... and I almost agree.

- Every elf knows that no one proposal Sauron and Morgoth can not agree, on any terms.
Gili remembered the dream in the mountains and bit his lip. The Emperor Finrod, so wise, beautiful and bright...
I believe you're right, Lord Caranthir, - he said quietly. But as I know your Lord - for him, the Emperor was like a father or brother. We, the people, other times it is easier to sacrifice honor than to know that suffering brother. Call it weakness if you want.

He realized now to the end, why Berena raced four years, and he with impunity commit murder here and there. He was not just clever and quick killer - he was a weapon, a blazing sword in someone's invisible hand - and Woe to those who dare to experience the power of this hand.

In Doryatha the art of writing, except Daeron, owned a few. It was fun to turn it into chains of runes. The Noldor and it was different. They wrote the chronicle of events, recorded the story of their own and other people's Affairs, and even their songs are passed on to the silent paper, and parchment. The Noldor seemed to have sought to perpetuate themselves, to leave their thoughts and words for those who will never meet face to face.

Celegorm was afraid that she would invent some spell and tries to flee. Several times he tried to force her word not to do attempts to escape, but she always answered the same: every prisoner has the right to seek liberation and Celegorm do not weaken the guard. Lutien looking for ways to their hearts, tried to talk to them - they didn't answer; she sang in the evenings, quietly and sadly, but none came, except that at her request - and then she noticed from time to time that the eyelashes were slightly damp. However, it was teenorange. They could cry listening to the song, but could not break the loyalty to their lords.

- Have you noticed how this boy, Forlas, hates Beren?
- Nobody hates it more than me.
Wrong. You hate not so much his as the one who owns the heart of Luthien. You don't care, Beren it or not - like all of us, no matter who owns Silmarilli. But Forlas hates it. Just as he is. And you know what?
- Heed you, my wise brother, ' hissed Celegorm.
- Because he cheated. Poor boy loved their leader. About the same as residents of Nargothrond loved Finrod. But love does not forgive deception. Cost to fool them in their most intimate hopes and that's Finnode no one does not want to hear about Serene too. What torments, threats or promises ripped his betrayal - still... He lied to hope, which he himself had awakened, Woe unto him!

She didn't know what news he brought, but without knowing already opposed it with all my heart.