In every herd, many stampede, while only a few turn to face the lions. Cowards live for the sake of living, but for heroes, life is a weapon, a thing to be spent, a gift to be given to the weak and the lost and the weary, even to the foolish and the cowardly.

When mothers lay down their lives for children, when brothers die for sisters and sisters for brothers, when fathers die for wives and children, when heroes die for strangers on the street, they do not pour out their blood because the one they save deserves such a sacrifice. Love burns hotter than justice, and its roar is thunder. Beside love, even wrath whispers. Not one of us snatching breath with mortal lungs deserves such a gift, and yet every day such a gift is given.

To love is to be selfless. To be selfless is to be fearless. To be fearless is to strip enemies of their greatest weapon. Even if they break our bodies and drain our blood, we are unvanquished. Our goal was never to live; our goal is to love. It is the goal of all noble men and women. Give all that can be given. Give even your live itself.

---
This book. Man. It's wild, and it's weird, and it's probably not going to be your favorite unless you have the very specific taste that I do. But it's worth reading regardless, if only for the speech I typed out above (which comes from the mouth of a nineteen-year-old fat Irish monk called Niffy. truthfully).

This is an adventure. It's a story of crazy and stupid teenagers facing unimaginable evil and realizing that they, too, have evil inside them they must confront. It's got mythology and Latin and monks and dragons and an amazing estate on the shores of Lake Michigan... and also some pretty awesome themes of love and grace and mercy and courage... and it's pretty much the best middle-grade/YA fantasy I've read in a very long time, and I already want to reread it, and you should read it too.

Best read in conjunction with Death By Living, which is basically the nonfiction form of Empire of Bones.

Seventy weeks will soon be passed. One comes on the wing of abominations, and there shall be no end to war. He shall be called the Desolation, and when he casts his shadow, even the dragon shall shrink in fear.

---
{ quotes }

Spoiler

He walks the boneyard path, following in the steps of the one Mortal from whom even the Reaper fled in fear. That path runs beneath headstones, down through the lightless cold of lonely loss, through the dark valleys where death was borne down to the black soul river and the final battle line. Only love can set a man's feet on such a path. Only love can see him through, into rest and the hot light of the sun.

The storm grows.
Let us fill our sails.
The storm grows!
Let us spread our wings!
The sea rages!
Let our ships till her waves!
Let us give,
and not count the cost!
Let us fight,
and not heed our wounds!
Let us toil,
and seek no rest.
Let us labor,
and seek no reward.
Until our dust is dust,
and our ash is ash.
Yeshua defend us.

It will not make you safe; it will make you dangerous—light to the darkness, life to the dead, love to the loveless, folly to the wise. Wage your war. Live for those you love. Until the end of sorrows.

I have laughter. What can you do to erase the life and the laughter I've already lived and already laughed? What can you do frighten one as foolish as me?