The Jade God quotes
The lines readers remember from The Jade God, by Alan Sullivan.
19 quotes · About the book
Standout lines
Did you ever reflect how much humanity is run by things, just things?
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This is one of those times. I generally look about, take the whole show in with one squint, and ask myself why people commit such crimes.
Did you ever reflect how much humanity is run by things, just things?
”
But, believe me, every house has its secret.
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Mr. Jarrad’s brows went up. “In our profession it does not concern us what our clients may or may not know. Our business is to establish the physical condition of a lot of infernally uninteresting things.
But, believe me, every house has its secret.
We can’t report on that; we can’t even read it, because we’re not there long enough.”
It is something more than fate; it is purpose.
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It is all utterly intangible; there is no one point on which one can put a finger and say the reason lies there; and one of the most remarkable things is that we can meet for the first time and talk like this.
It is something more than fate; it is purpose.
”
Good is ever the same, and it is only evil that changes, assuming a thousand lovely shapes, inviting, alluring, the wine that, having tasted, no man may forget.
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“Come East,” they signaled, “where man can taste all the wild joys of life, and women know how to love as do no others. Books, what are books? Dead things and dusty against the curve of a breast and the languorous hours of tropic nights.
Good is ever the same, and it is only evil that changes, assuming a thousand lovely shapes, inviting, alluring, the wine that, having tasted, no man may forget.
Come and drink deep while your blood is hot. There are those who wait to show you the way, and soon it will be too late.”
He was like a man who straightens his shoulders after they have been crushed by some killing load.
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They went in together. Peters had lit his pipe and was smoking placidly with no concern for the thing on the floor, but Martin stood, still staring down. There was a kind of wonder in his face, and with it a strange thankfulness.
He was like a man who straightens his shoulders after they have been crushed by some killing load.
“Martin,” said Derrick crisply, “Sergeant Burke is going to make a search of the cottage.”
It seemed that there were two men in him, one the carver of images, the other with all the evil of the world wrapped up in his black heart.
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One night I stayed with Lung, and before morning came I knew the man as none other ever had.
It seemed that there were two men in him, one the carver of images, the other with all the evil of the world wrapped up in his black heart.
He told me, perhaps because I had foreign blood and he thought I would understand better, that he was tired of making flat-faced Buddhas and had been tired for years, and that evil was more interesting than good, and it was more difficult to carve …
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I: The Old House
Did you ever reflect how much humanity is run by things, just things?
Show the passage
This is one of those times. I generally look about, take the whole show in with one squint, and ask myself why people commit such crimes.
Did you ever reflect how much humanity is run by things, just things?
”
But, believe me, every house has its secret.
Show the passage
Mr. Jarrad’s brows went up. “In our profession it does not concern us what our clients may or may not know. Our business is to establish the physical condition of a lot of infernally uninteresting things.
But, believe me, every house has its secret.
We can’t report on that; we can’t even read it, because we’re not there long enough.”
“Every house has its secret,” said Mr. Jarrad.
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Dawkins gave an involuntary shiver. “What holds her in such a lonely place?”
“Every house has its secret,” said Mr. Jarrad.
At this moment quick steps sounded in the hall, there was an echo of a young, strong voice, and the new tenant of Beech Lodge entered the room. Dawkins jumped up, while Mr. Jarrad assumed an air of professional dignity.
I wonder whether we’ve taken the house, or the house has taken us.
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“She is a bit formidable,” he admitted; then, slowly, “
I wonder whether we’ve taken the house, or the house has taken us.
”
“I always stay, madam,” she said quietly.
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Perkins’s thin lips moved ever so slightly, and the faintest trace of a smile flitted over the blank features. She made a little gesture that put her late employer definitely out of the reckoning.
“I always stay, madam,” she said quietly.
Edith stared at her. “Why always? I don’t quite understand.”
People come and go, but nothing has really changed.
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“I came here to Mrs. Millicent, and”—here there was again the ghost of a smile—“I even stayed with Mrs. Thursby, and I’m quite willing to stay with you.
People come and go, but nothing has really changed.
”
III: The Man from the East
It was like jungle-fever without the fever.
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“Maybe I was a fool to come,” he added, “but in a way it wasn’t left to me to decide. It’s the first time I ever struck anything like that.
It was like jungle-fever without the fever.
”
“Is it always this way? Is the whole world full of stains like this, stains that go deeper and deeper, however we try to rub them out, till by and by we cannot reach them?”
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Leaning over it, her eyes dark with unfathomable things, she relived something in that moment; but it was hidden too deep for discovery. Finally she spoke, as though to someone far distant.
“Is it always this way? Is the whole world full of stains like this, stains that go deeper and deeper, however we try to rub them out, till by and by we cannot reach them?”
“Some stains are never effaced,” said Derrick grimly. “We only rub them deeper in.”
“Some stains are never effaced,” said Derrick grimly. “We only rub them deeper in.”
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“Is it always this way? Is the whole world full of stains like this, stains that go deeper and deeper, however we try to rub them out, till by and by we cannot reach them?”
“Some stains are never effaced,” said Derrick grimly. “We only rub them deeper in.”
“And Martin is here tonight!” The words came from her very soul.
IV: Jean
It is something more than fate; it is purpose.
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It is all utterly intangible; there is no one point on which one can put a finger and say the reason lies there; and one of the most remarkable things is that we can meet for the first time and talk like this.
It is something more than fate; it is purpose.
”
VII: A Mysterious Peddler
Sometimes the more one thinks one knows the less one finds out.
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Blunt shook his head. “It’s just as well I shouldn’t know anything at all, sir.
Sometimes the more one thinks one knows the less one finds out.
” Again he sent the young man that extraordinary look.
VIII: The Power of the Unknown
Good is ever the same, and it is only evil that changes, assuming a thousand lovely shapes, inviting, alluring, the wine that, having tasted, no man may forget.
Show the passage
“Come East,” they signaled, “where man can taste all the wild joys of life, and women know how to love as do no others. Books, what are books? Dead things and dusty against the curve of a breast and the languorous hours of tropic nights.
Good is ever the same, and it is only evil that changes, assuming a thousand lovely shapes, inviting, alluring, the wine that, having tasted, no man may forget.
Come and drink deep while your blood is hot. There are those who wait to show you the way, and soon it will be too late.”
It was a tongue for the dumb.
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It was a thing of power, and stronger than himself. Mystery was in it, and thereby it was able to give tongues to that which could not otherwise speak.
It was a tongue for the dumb.
”
He was like a man who straightens his shoulders after they have been crushed by some killing load.
Show the passage
They went in together. Peters had lit his pipe and was smoking placidly with no concern for the thing on the floor, but Martin stood, still staring down. There was a kind of wonder in his face, and with it a strange thankfulness.
He was like a man who straightens his shoulders after they have been crushed by some killing load.
“Martin,” said Derrick crisply, “Sergeant Burke is going to make a search of the cottage.”
Came a dull knock, a clatter on the floor, and a knife with a broad, curved blade a foot long and a strangely carved handle slid across the floor and rested almost touching the lifeless palm of the peddler.
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“Your man isn’t what you’d call exactly a careful housekeeper. He needs a wife.” He picked up the bundle between thumb and forefinger. “Look at this.”
Came a dull knock, a clatter on the floor, and a knife with a broad, curved blade a foot long and a strangely carved handle slid across the floor and rested almost touching the lifeless palm of the peddler.
The big man drew in his breath with a great gust and stood glowering. His eyes met Derrick’s.
X: A Night of Tragedy
From the trees bordering the lawn came a slow, soft drip, sounding like a vast, subdued weeping in this black obscurity.
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The night was profound, and over the countryside rested a great blanket of fog. Putting out his hand, he could hardly see it. Beyond was the world, populous with life, lost and infinitely removed.
From the trees bordering the lawn came a slow, soft drip, sounding like a vast, subdued weeping in this black obscurity.
Anything might move here and be undetected. All in a breath he became convinced that there was something close by. But it did not move.
XI: A Strange Confession
It seemed that there were two men in him, one the carver of images, the other with all the evil of the world wrapped up in his black heart.
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One night I stayed with Lung, and before morning came I knew the man as none other ever had.
It seemed that there were two men in him, one the carver of images, the other with all the evil of the world wrapped up in his black heart.
He told me, perhaps because I had foreign blood and he thought I would understand better, that he was tired of making flat-faced Buddhas and had been tired for years, and that evil was more interesting than good, and it was more difficult to carve …
She was asleep, but the god never sleeps.
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and this man from an English village disobeyed the law and passed at the hand of one who struck when her eyes were closed. When after two years they opened, she struck again, but this time at herself.
She was asleep, but the god never sleeps.
So if you do not give it to me, then make an end of me quickly, and prepare for the next messenger, who is now on his way, and will not ask, but take.”
XIII: The Sacrifice
There was a shivering sound as of tinkling glass, and the jade god dissolved into mottled green fragments.
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He raised the hammer. Driven with all the strength of his wrist, it fell fair on the malignant head.
There was a shivering sound as of tinkling glass, and the jade god dissolved into mottled green fragments.
He felt a sharp pang in his thumb. An emerald splinter quivered there, like a miniature javelin beaded with blood.
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