Treaty Quotes

“War is not just the shower of bullets and bombs from both sides, it is also the shower of blood and bones on both sides.”
― Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words

“Verträge bricht man um des Nutzens willen.”
― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

“Dead men are not friends to living men, and give them no gifts.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

“We sold ourselves for love but now we are free
I’m so sorry for that ghost I made you be
Only one of us was real and that was me”
― Leonard Cohen

“Nector [speaking to Bernadette] could have told her, having drunk down the words of Nanapush, that comfort is not security and money in the hand disappears. He could have told her that only the land matters and never to let go of the papers, the titles, the tracks of the words, all those things that his ancestors never understood how the vital relationship to the dirt and grass under their feet.”
― Louise Erdrich, The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse

“The trees were making their spring sounds, popping and cracking, the snow blowing by and whooshing against her skin, and spring birds making their small and distinctive calls”
― Aimée Craft, Treaty Words: For As Long As the Rivers Flow

“If the Masquerade could not be stopped by spear or treaty, she would change it from within.”
― Seth Dickinson, The Traitor Baru Cormorant

“…for as long as the sun shines, the grass grows, and the rivers flow. Like the original treaty.”
― Aimée Craft, Treaty Words: For As Long As the Rivers Flow

“Every person was born with a set of spiritual instructions or understandings, my girl. It’s what we do with it that defines us as human beings.”
― Aimée Craft, Treaty Words: For As Long As the Rivers Flow

“Sleep is my only ally united by a dream treaty”
― Munia Khan

“Josephine!"
A stentorian bellow shook the candles in their sconces.
Unconsciously, Amy grabbed Richard’s arm, looking about anxiously for the source of the roar. About the room, people went on chatting as before.
"Steady there." Richard patted the delicate hand clutching the material of his coat. "It’s just the First Consul."
Snatching her hand away as though his coat were made of live coals, Amy snapped, "You would know."
"Josephine!"
The dreadful noise repeated itself, cutting off any further remarks. Out of an adjoining room charged a blur of red velvet, closely followed by the scurrying form of a young man. Amy sidestepped just in time, swaying on her slippers to avoid toppling into Lord Richard.
The red velvet came to an abrupt stop beside Mme Bonaparte’s chair. "Oh. Visitors."
Once still, the red velvet resolved into a man of slightly less than medium height, clad in a long red velvet coat with breeches that must once have been white, but which now bore assorted stains that proclaimed as clearly as a menu what the wearer had eaten for supper.
"I do wish you wouldn’t shout so, Bonaparte." Mme Bonaparte lifted one white hand and touched him gently on the cheek.
Bonaparte grabbed her hand and planted a resounding kiss on the palm. "How else am I to make myself heard?" Affectionately tweaking one of her curls, he demanded, "Well? Who is it tonight?"
"We have some visitors from England, sir,"his stepdaughter responded. "I should like to present…" Hortense began listing their names. Bonaparte stood, legs slightly apart, eyes hooded with apparent boredom, and one arm thrust into the opposite side of his jacket, as though in a sling.
Bonaparte inclined his head, looked down at his wife, and demanded, "Are we done yet?"
Thwap!
Everyone within earshot jumped at the sound of Miss Gwen’s reticule connecting with Bonaparte’s arm.
"Sir! Take that hand out of your jacket! It is rude and it ruins your posture. A man of your diminutive stature needs to stand up straight."
Something suspiciously like a chuckle emerged from Lord Richard’s lips, but when Amy glanced sharply up at him, his expression was studiedly bland.
A dangerous hush fell over the room. Flirtations in the far corners of the room were abandoned. Business deals were dropped. The non-English speakers among the assemblage tugged at the sleeves of those who had the language, and instant translations began to be whispered about the room – suitably embellished, of course.
"It’s an assassination attempt!" a woman next to Amy cried dramatically, swooning back into the arms of an officer who looked as though he didn’t quite know what to do with her, but would really be happiest just dropping her.
"No, it’s not, it’s just Miss Gwen," Amy tried to explain.
Meanwhile, Miss Gwen was advancing on Bonaparte, backing him up so that he was nearly sitting on Josephine’s lap. "While we are speaking, sir, this habit you have of barging into other people’s countries without invitation – it is most rude. I will not have it! You should apologise to the Italians and the Dutch at the first opportunity!"
"Mais zee Italians, zey invited me!" Bonaparte exclaimed indignantly.
Miss Gwen cast Bonaparte the severe look of a governess listening to substandard excuses from a wayward child.
"That may well be," she pronounced in a tone that implied she thought it highly unlikely. "But your behaviour upon entering their country was inexcusable! If you were to be invited to someone’s home for a weekend, sirrah, would you reorganise their domestic arrangements and seize the artwork from their walls? Would you countenance any guest who behaved so? I thought not."
Amy wondered if Bonaparte could declare war on Miss Gwen alone without breaking his peace with England. "So much for the Peace of Amiens!" she started to whisper to Jane, but Jane was no longer beside her.”
― Lauren Willig, The Secret History of the Pink Carnation

“Soon the shelling began again. As we all huddled together in the dining room, one question was on our minds: What kind of peace was this?”
― Malala Yousafzai, I Am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World

“When I was at Washington the Great White Father told me that all the Comanche land was ours, and that no one should hinder us in living upon it. So, why do you ask us to leave the rivers, and the sun, and the wind, and lie in houses? Do not ask us to give up the buffalo for the sheep. The young men have heard talk of this, and it has made them sad and angry. Do not speak of it more…' - Parra-Wa-Samen (Ten Bears) of the Yamparika Comanches”
― Dee Brown, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West

“Once- long ago and for millennia before that- we had been slaves to High Fae overlords. Once, we had built them glorious, sprawling civilisations from our blood and sweat, built them temples to their feral gods. Once, we had rebelled, across every land and territory. The War had been so bloody, so destructive, that it took six mortal queens crafting the Treaty for the slaughter to cease on both sides and for the wall to be constructed: the North of our world conceded to the High Fae and faeries, who took their magic with them; the South to we cowering mortals, forever forced to scratch out a living from the earth.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“What is the payment the Treaty requires?'

His eyes didn't leave my face as he said, 'A life for a life. Any unprovoked attacks on faerie-kind by humans are to be paid only by a human life in exchange.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“I didn't know,' I said. 'Didn't know about that part of the treaty.'

Faeries couldn't lie- and he spoke plainly enough, no word-twisting.

'Most of you mortals have chosen to forget that part of the Treaty,' he said, 'which makes punishing you far more enjoyable.'

My knees quaked. I couldn't escape this, couldn't outrun this. Couldn't even try to run, since he blocked the way to the door. 'Do it outside,' I whispered, my voice trembling. 'Not... here.' Not where my family would have to wash away my blood and gore. If he even let them live.

The faerie huffed a vicious laugh. 'Willing to accept your fate so easily?' When I just stared at him, he said, 'For having the nerve to request where I slaughter you, I'll let you in on a secret, human. Prythian must claim your life in some way, for the life you took from it. So as a representative of the immortal realm, I can either gut you like swine, or... you can cross the wall and live out the remainder of your days in Prythian.'

I blinked. 'What?'

He said slowly, as if I were indeed as stupid as a swine, 'You can either die tonight or offer your life to Prythian by living in it forever, forsaking the human realm.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“I can't just give up on it, on them. No matter what you say.'

Even if I had been a fool- a stupid, human fool- to believe my father would ever actually come for me.

Tamlin eyed me sidelong. 'You're not giving up on them.'

'Living in luxury, stuffing myself with food? How is that not-'

'They are cared for- they are fed and comfortable.'

Fed and comfortable. If he couldn't lie, if it was true, then.. then it was beyond anything I'd ever dared hope for.

Then... my vow to my mother was fulfilled.

It stunned me enough that I didn't say anything for a moment as we walked.

My life was now owned by the Treaty, but... perhaps I'd been freed in another sort of way.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Later, the US government went against the treaty and tried to have our tribe sent to one of the reservations they had set up in Washington, including one that was along the Elwha River. The other was in what is now called Kitsap, farther south. They offered plots of land and $80 to anyone who would move to these locations. Members who moved to Kitsap became the Port Gamble S'Klallam Tribe, and those who moved to the Elwha River became the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe. Some tribal members stayed, insisting that Jamestown Beach was where they belonged. They pooled together $500 worth of gold coin and purchased 210 acres along the water. There is where we staked our independence and became the Jamestown S'Klallam Tribe.”
― Leah Myers, Thinning Blood: A Memoir of Family, Myth, and Identity