Percy Lavon Julian Quotes Novels & Stories

Standing side-by-side at the center of the illuminated stage, holding the heavy gold medals, Julian and I stepped up to the microphone together. "Science was never meant to be a private fortress or a instrument of empire," I began, looking out over the sea of faces, my voice clear, steady, and resonant. "It was meant to be a torch, passed from mind to mind, unburdened by paywalls, political vanity, or financial greed."

"Julian, look at me. You loved me once. Or you loved the mirror I held up for you. If there is a shred of the man who proposed to me in the rain left in there... don't do this to Leo." Julian hesitated. For a split second, the madness in his eyes flickered, replaced by a hollow, crushing regret. He looked at the tablet, then back at Elena. "It was never a test for me, was it?" he whispered. "The Poverty Trial. I was just a footnote in your training." "You were a choice, Julian," Elena said softly. "And you chose wrong." Julian’s face twisted. The madness returned, sharper than before. "Then I choose to burn it all."

Why would they want to remake something so sinister now? "Are you sure you're not going to regret this? There's no turning back now. As for me, I don't really care. After all, I'm just an orphan," Julian said teasingly. "If your parents saw you using this kind of substance from the heavens, they would probably be furious enough to come back to life." Nathaniel cast a cold glance at Julian. "Less talk, and more action. If I hear such words from you again..."

"You think you can win a war against the families that built this city?" "I don't need to win a war," Julian stepped forward, closing the distance until they were inches apart. He could smell the expensive, cloying scent of Vane’s perfume, designed to mask the underlying odor of the city’s decay. "I just need to show the people who’s been poisoning their wells. The mob doesn't care about lineage, Vane. They care about survival. And once they find out who’s been siphoning their gold and selling their lives to the blight… you won't need a trial. You’ll need a miracle to keep your head on your shoulders."

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t know.” Alma shook her head. “You felt it, though. Didn’t you?” Julian looked away. “I felt drawn. To this war. To Evelyn. To you.” Flashback, 18 Years Ago A little boy stands alone in a sterile white lab. Evelyn leans over him, brushing his hair back gently. “You’re special, Julian,” she whispers. “Why?” “Because one day, you’ll love her enough to save her. Or destroy her.” Present Day, Alma’s Quarters

Julian continued. “What do you want me to do?” “Don’t you want the crown?” He asked. “What makes you think I would be any different than Pierre?” “Because you are a witch and witches don’t damage, they restore.” Julain explained. Lucian was getting annoyed. “Look, I am not a witch and I have no desire to become king.” Now it was Julians turn to get annoyed. “What about all the people who died for you. Died to protect you, all your men. Did they die in vain?”

I said, my hands steady on the wheel. "I’m thinking about the last time I was here," Julian replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "It was my father's birthday. Leo and Marcus stood right there on Pier 47 and promised him they would keep the family legacy alive. They were toasted with champagne. Tonight, I’m going to toast them in gasoline."

Who would have thought that just minutes ago, I vowed that this would never happen again? I even went as far as slapping Julian and giving him the "eww" expression when he indirectly implied that it would. Suddenly, the thought of Tania Beecroft seems to be thrown right out the window. Instead, I’m thinking of Julian's words to me moments ago. He said, “I am perfect for him.” And I felt those words on a visceral level. "Well, there is another red somewhere else, but you will need some luck finding it," I whisper, my mouth against his ear.

until a chasm seemed to yawn monstrous and bottomless-black in its unrecognizable face . Lawrie cried out and staggered, clapping his hands viciously over his eyes. “Go home,” said Julian from where he stood, “and think about those hundreds of men rutting your wife over the years. That sow of a wife—every man’s leavings.” His smile was dissolving, becoming sad almost. “Go home and die now, Jack.”

Julian commented, “I’m surprised you still feel you know the old man at all.” “I am just full of surprises.” Marcus must have caught himself wanting something from Julian , because the light in his own eyes went out, too. “And you can leave any time, Jules.” “I think not,” Julian replied. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” He let those words hang in the air. “Or is it? Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” My eyes darted toward Marcus, who stood eerily, absolutely still. “He left you the same message,” Marcus said finally, pushing off the doorway and pacing the room. “The same clue.”