Steven Erikson

Greed is the knife in the sheath of ambition

Taking up the sword is the last act of desperate men.

Words are like coin – it pays to hoard

Words are like coin – it pays to hoard.'

'Until you die on a bed of gold,' Paran said

three other High Mages. Tattersail knew them all. Nightchill, raven-haired, tall, imperious and with a cruel streak the old Emperor used to drool over. At her side her lifelong companion, Bellurdan, skull-crusher, a Thelomen giant who would test his prodigious strength against the Moon's portal, should it come to that. And A'Karonys, fire-wielder, short and round, his burning staff taller than a spear.

Mane of Chaos. Anomander Rake. Lord of the black-skinned Tiste Andii, who has looked down on a hundred thousand winters, who has tasted the blood of dragons, who leads the last of his kind, seated in the Throne of Sorrow and a kingdom tragic and fey — a kingdom with no land to call its own.

Self-righteous wrath had planted more corpses in the ground than an empire could lay claim to,

He drew a breath, sometime earlier that day, filled with love.

And then released it, black with grief.

it's never too late for regrets

Civilizations made sure their heroes were dead before they honoured them