All that lives must die pdf

Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Average rating 4. Rating details. More filters. Sort order. Aug 06, Andjela rated it it was amazing. I can't get over the fact that there's no sequel to this. Even though I HATE reading unfinished series especially when it seems it won't ever get finished , I don't regret reading this masterpiece. Nylund is a freaking genius.

I loved this series to bits. I can just hope that we'll get some closure, as the again-genius footnotes indicated that best was yet to come.

Dec 24, Paul Weimer rated it really liked it. In Mortal Coils, the first book in sequence, we are introduced to the teenaged twins Eliot and Fiona Post. Children of scions of opposing factions, the Immortal Audrey Post aka Atropos and the Infernal Louis Piper aka Lucifer , they have an uneventful, if odd, homeschooled and shut in life, until both factions notice their existence and try to lure the twins to one side or the other.

The first novel ended with an Infernal attempt to suborn the children defeated on the one hand, and the twins p In Mortal Coils, the first book in sequence, we are introduced to the teenaged twins Eliot and Fiona Post.

The first novel ended with an Infernal attempt to suborn the children defeated on the one hand, and the twins passing a deadly test set by the Immortals on the other. Now, the twins have an even greater test: High School. All That Lives Must Die is the story of Fiona and Eliot, as they grow into their newly discovered, and still developing abilities, in the context of a magical High School, Paxington Institute, that makes Hogwarts seem tame by comparison.

The twins also fracture, as the pressures of school, and their social relations pull at Eliot and Fiona from completely different directions. And, of course, both the Immortals and Infernals have their own ideas on the education and development of the children. In addition, both sides have become convinced that the children's existence herald that the long standing truce between the two camps is about to be over, and start to arm accordingly.

While the book has teenaged protagonists and even has a reader's guide at the end, the book does not feel like dumbed down YA fiction.

Rather, it is in the vein of the better Potter novels, and the newer crop of fantasy and science fiction novels with teenagers in mind. The prose is intelligent, never talks down, and has additional layers that adult readers will enjoy. For example, the hinted identities of Eliot's "band" in Hell are clearly "credit cookies" meant for readers beyond teenagers. In other words, the book feels very much like the best of Pixar movies in that respect. In addition, the novel continues Nylund's tradition of putting in footnotes as a way to expand the playground of the imagination.

Careful reading of the footnotes, with their tone of having been written after the events in the books, provide hints and clues as to where this is all going, and at their best are as witty and urbane as the footnotes in the works of Jack Vance. He even manages to tie in his long-ago first novel in one particular entry. Nylund is one of those authors who is not stingy on the creativity. From all of the mythological personae given new life and identities, to the vistas of the Paxington Institute, Hell and beyond, and the swirling, complexity of the factions gearing up for the inevitable conflict, Nylund enjoys spooling out his imagination for the reader.

As said before, the text is well written but not dumbed down. I devoured this book. Urban fantasy with a mythological bent. Who would ask for anything more? You won't want to start here--start with Mortal Coils. You'll thank me later. Jul 16, Moustapha Diop added it. Still can't believe that book 3 will never be released View all 3 comments.

Apr 24, variablestar rated it it was amazing Shelves: and-earlier , female-protagonist , teen-ya , paranormal. This is the book well, series that taught me that not only is life not fair, books are not fair.

I learned that even beautiful, precious books could betray me. In a meta sense, that is. Please, I knew even then that bad books existed; I just had yet to understand that a good series could be discontinued. Probably I would have grasped this earlier had I seen Firefly at that point.

Thus I must warn you: if you can't bear loose ends - and I don't blame you, this series is truly huge in scale - then this is not for you. This one raises more questions. Now that that's over with, I still think that you should read this. It's fucking awesome, that's why. I would even go so far as to say epic. Plus I was a little shit who read with a lens of internalized misogyny, so I anticipate liking Fiona more the next time around.

Jun 25, Sam rated it really liked it Shelves: pub-tor-forge-thru-macmillan , read-fantasy , r-fantasy-low-hero-quest-mundane , r-fantasy-contemporary-urban , r-fantasy-weird-whimsical , r-fantasy-demons , r-fantasy-mythic-theological. An excellent sequel, with great characters and plot that weaves ancient myths into a contemporary setting. It is a mortal sin that Tor has according to the author been unable to come to an agreement to publish the rest of an intended 5 book series.

May 14, Lord Nouda rated it really liked it. This is simply amazing. In the first book it took forever to build up the plot and background for the entire story, but once it got going it got me hooked because it was so " deep " so to speak. They get shipped off to a school for powerful mortals, Immortals and Infernals.

It's there that they get taught the basic skills of surviving t This is simply amazing. It's there that they get taught the basic skills of surviving the harsh and cruel world they live in where young Immortals tend to die at the hands of their older relatives. It turns out that the Immortals are at a severe disadvantage over the more powerful Infernals who have both human and colossal "Battle-forms" who derive power from the land they own and the armies of demons linked to them.

The only thing saving them is the peace treaty between both families. It kinda surprises me that the Immortals aren't in fact "Gods" in the usual sense but rather extremely powerful and intelligent humanoids.

The Infernals can cause Solar Eclipses, warp the fabric of space and time, command undying armies of demons and the Immortals can do what, cut anything with strings Atropos or divine the future Chronos or are just really good with weapons Ares. Pffft, any powerful human could do that. Hopefully Book 3 comes out soon because the reimagined universe of Mortal Coils is pretty mindblowing compared to most of the mainstream rubbish out there coughGoddessTestcough.

Sep 13, Kelly Flanagan rated it really liked it. Yet again Eric Nylund surprises me. Thank God for that. I hate books that follow a plot in which you can see the last page from the hills of the first page. No, a good book has just enough twists,turns and switchbacks, along with detours, 'dead end look-alike' corners etc. So that even though you are standing on a tall hill at the beginning of the book, and you can make out, barely, a few of the switchbacks, and lower bits of plot, at no time is the map obvious.

But I digress. Read this series. The twins are thrown into more of the 'families' drama. Beyond high school, there are loves, laughs, lithium care of the 'Lady' Sealiah of Hell , and laws that create a battery of incidents that help the two of them to look at who they are. Not who their families or others want them to be. How everyone, has a reason behind what they do, that not all reasons are good, and that sometimes you can't follow the path others expect of you. There was, for a while, no money bid for argument unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.

Is't possible? O, there has been much throwing about of brains. Do the boys carry it away? Ay, that they do, my lord- Hercules and his load too. It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while my father lived give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little.

There are the players. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come! Th' appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players which I tell you must show fairly outwards should more appear like entertainment than yours.

You are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceiv'd. In what, my dear lord? I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. Well be with you, gentlemen! Hark you, Guildenstern- and you too- at each ear a hearer! That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling clouts. Happily he's the second time come to them; for they say an old man is twice a child.

I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it. My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome- Polonius. The actors are come hither, my lord. Buzz, buzz! Upon my honour- Hamlet. Then came each actor on his ass- Polonius. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral; scene individable, or poem unlimited.

Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are the only men. O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! What treasure had he, my lord? Why, 'One fair daughter, and no more, The which he loved passing well. Am I not i' th' right, old Jephthah?

If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well. Nay, that follows not. What follows then, my lord? Why, 'As by lot, God wot,' and then, you know, 'It came to pass, as most like it was.

Why, thy face is valanc'd since I saw thee last. Com'st' thou to' beard me in Denmark? By'r Lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last by the altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not crack'd within the ring. We'll e'en to't like French falconers, fly at anything we see. We'll have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech. What speech, my good lord? I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted; or if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleas'd not the million, 'twas caviary to the general; but it was as I receiv'd it, and others, whose judgments in such matters cried in the top of mine an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning.

I remember one said there were no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affectation; but call'd it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in't I chiefly lov'd. If it live in your memory, begin at this line- let me see, let me see: 'The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beast-' 'Tis not so; it begins with Pyrrhus: 'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, Black as his purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couched in the ominous horse, Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd With heraldry more dismal.

Head to foot Now is be total gules, horridly trick'd With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets, That lend a tyrannous and a damned light To their lord's murther.

Roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o'ersized with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seeks. Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion. First Player.

His antique sword, Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, Repugnant to command. Unequal match'd, Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide; But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword Th' unnerved father falls.

Then senseless Ilium, Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo! So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, And, like a neutral to his will and matter, Did nothing. But, as we often see, against some storm, A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, The bold winds speechless, and the orb below As hush as death- anon the dreadful thunder Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause, Aroused vengeance sets him new awork; And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne, With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword Now falls on Priam.

Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods, In general synod take away her power; Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, As low as to the fiends!

This is too long. It shall to the barber's, with your beard. He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba.

That's good! Look, whe'r he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's eyes. Prithee no more! I'll have thee speak out the rest of this soon. Do you hear? Let them be well us'd; for they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the time.

After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. God's bodykins, man, much better!

Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.

Take them in. Come, sirs. Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play to-morrow. Can you play 'The Murther of Gonzago'? Ay, my lord.

We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines which I would set down and insert in't, could you not? Very well. Follow that lord- and look you mock him not. You are welcome to Elsinore. Ay, so, God b' wi' ye! O what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That, from her working, all his visage wann'd, Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit?

And all for nothing! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have?

He would drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing! No, not for a king, Upon whose property and most dear life A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by th' nose? Who does me this, ha?

Bloody bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murther'd, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must like a whore unpack my heart with words And fall a-cursing like a very drab, A scullion! Fie upon't! About, my brain! Hum, I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murther, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ, I'll have these Players Play something like the murther of my father Before mine uncle.

I'll observe his looks; I'll tent him to the quick. If he but blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be a devil; and the devil hath power T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds More relative than this.

The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. And can you by no drift of circumstance Get from him why he puts on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?

He does confess he feels himself distracted, But from what cause he will by no means speak. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty madness keeps aloof When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state.

Did he receive you well? Most like a gentleman. But with much forcing of his disposition. Niggard of question, but of our demands Most free in his reply. Did you assay him To any pastime? Madam, it so fell out that certain players We o'erraught on the way. Of these we told him, And there did seem in him a kind of joy To hear of it. They are here about the court, And, as I think, they have already order This night to play before him.

With all my heart, and it doth much content me To hear him so inclin'd. We shall, my lord. Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, That he, as 'twere by accident, may here Affront Ophelia. Her father and myself lawful espials Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen, We may of their encounter frankly judge And gather by him, as he is behav'd, If't be th' affliction of his love, or no, That thus he suffers for.

I shall obey you; And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish That your good beauties be the happy cause Of Hamlet's wildness.

So shall I hope your virtues Will bring him to his wonted way again, To both your honours. Madam, I wish it may. Ophelia, walk you here. The harlot's cheek, beautied with plast'ring art, Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it Than is my deed to my most painted word.

O heavy burthen! I hear him coming. Let's withdraw, my lord. Exeunt King and Polonius]. Enter Hamlet. To be, or not to be- that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep- No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to.

To die- to sleep. To sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?

Who would these fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death- The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns- puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? The fair Ophelia! Good my lord, How does your honour for this many a day? I humbly thank you; well, well, well. My lord, I have remembrances of yours That I have longed long to re-deliver.

I pray you, now receive them. No, not I! My honour'd lord, you know right well you did, And with them words of so sweet breath compos'd As made the things more rich. Their perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.

There, my lord. Ha, ha! Are you honest? My lord? Are you fair? What means your lordship? That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty? Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness.

This was sometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. You should not have believ'd me; for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not.

I was the more deceived. Get thee to a nunnery! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me. I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.

What should such fellows as I do, crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father?

At home, my lord. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool nowhere but in's own house. O, help him, you sweet heavens! If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery. Go, farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.

To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. O heavenly powers, restore him! I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you amble, and you lisp; you nickname God's creatures and make your wantonness your ignorance.

Go to, I'll no more on't! I say, we will have no moe marriages. Those that are married already- all but one- shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword, Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, Th' observ'd of all observers- quite, quite down! O, woe is me T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

Enter King and Polonius. There's something in his soul O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose Will be some danger; which for to prevent, I have in quick determination Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England For the demand of our neglected tribute.

Haply the seas, and countries different, With variable objects, shall expel This something-settled matter in his heart, Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus From fashion of himself. It shall do well. But yet do I believe The origin and commencement of his grief Sprung from neglected love. We heard it all. Let her be round with him; And I'll be plac'd so please you, in the ear Of all their conference. If she find him not, To England send him; or confine him where Your wisdom best shall think.

It shall be so. Enter Hamlet and three of the Players. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as live the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.

O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the cars of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipp'd for o'erdoing Termagant.

It out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it. I warrant your honour. Be not too tame neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show Virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.

Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly not to speak it profanely , that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.

I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with us, sir. O, reform it altogether! And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them. For there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time some necessary question of the play be then to be considered.

That's villanous and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready. Will the King hear this piece of work? And the Queen too, and that presently. Bid the players make haste, [Exit Polonius. Exeunt they two. What, ho, Horatio! Enter Horatio. Here, sweet lord, at your service. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.

O, my dear lord! Nay, do not think I flatter; For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning.

Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for herself. For thou hast been As one, in suff'ring all, that suffers nothing; A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.

Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee. Something too much of this I There is a play to-night before the King.

One scene of it comes near the circumstance, Which I have told thee, of my father's death. I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, Even with the very comment of thy soul Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt Do not itself unkennel in one speech, It is a damned ghost that we have seen, And my imaginations are as foul As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, And after we will both our judgments join In censure of his seeming.

If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, And scape detecting, I will pay the theft. Hamlet Lit2Go Edition. Shakespeare, William. Lit2Go Edition. January 13, Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,— With an auspicious and a dropping eye, With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole,— Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along.

For all, our thanks. Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother's death Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, To our most valiant brother. So much for him. Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: Thus much the business is: we have here writ To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,— Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears Of this his nephew's purpose,—to suppress His further gait herein; in that the levies, The lists and full proportions, are all made Out of his subject: and we here dispatch You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; Giving to you no further personal power To business with the king, more than the scope Of these delated articles allow.

Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the mouth, Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

The first edition of the novel was published in July 20th , and was written by Eric S. The book was published in multiple languages including English, consists of pages and is available in Paperback format. The main characters of this fantasy, fantasy story are ,. The book has been awarded with , and many others. Weiss pdf.