Agent of Byzantium

Research seemed a more profitable way to spend his time than mourning.

His eyes were black and shiny; he had somehow the air of a man who saw things no one else did. Whether those things were actually there, Argyros was not sure.

Beauty was too rare in the world to be wasted.

“The Holy Spirit will guide the assembled fathers to the truth,” the magistrianos said confidently. Being a veteran of years of bureaucratic infighting, he added, “Of course, we may have to help things along a bit.”

“Mobs,” Corippus said scornfully. “The bravest bastards in the world, till somebody fights back.”

“Why?” he cried, a groan that filled the room.

“Ask God when you come before Him in judgment,” Riario said. “I intend to. He’d best have a good answer, too, or I’ll make Him pay. One day I had a wife I loved, two daughters I couldn’t afford to dowry, and a face I didn’t mind seeing in a mirror. A couple of weeks later…

There was, he remembered, far more to love than what went on in bed, but that had its place too.

As riots have a way of doing, this one was rapidly outgrowing the incident that had spawned it.

I am not especially wise, but I am especially stubborn.

He’s had less use for me outside the bedchamber since I stopped telling him things he wanted to hear.

[Dr.] Riario’s laugh was harsh. “I hate smallpox, and even more I hate being helpless against it. If it’s God’s curse as they say, why, I curse God back for it.”

Whether the bear beats the lion or the lion the bear, the rabbit always loses.

Some people blame the devil to keep from owning up to their shortcomings.