You are not wise enough to fear me as I should be feared.
Patrick RothfussMots clés bast
What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Chronicler snapped. "You're just spouting nonsense now."
"I'm spouting too much sense for you to understand," Bast said testily.
Mots clés sense nonsense bast chronicler
After an awkward pause, Bast extended his hand. Chronicler hesitated for a bare moment before reaching out quickly, as if he were sticking his hand into a fire.
Nothing happened, both of them seemed moderately surprised.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Kvothe addressed them bitingly. "Five fingers and flesh with blood beneath. One could almost believe that on the other end of that hand lay a person of some sort.
Mots clés humor friends enemies kvothe bast chronicler
Baboons are very wise animals,” Bast said.
“Agh!” Khufu picked his nose, then turned his Technicolor bum our direction. He threw his friends the ball. They began to fight over it, showing one another their fangs and slapping their heads.
“Wise?” I asked.
Mots clés khufu sadie-kane bast
...besides, i'm a cat. i respect the sanctity of sleep.
serpent's shadow Rick RiordanOh you two look delicious," Bast said, licking her lips. "No, no-er, I mean wonderful. Now, off you go!
Rick RiordanBast crouched down and began making weird chittering noises. Uh-oh. She was imitating birds. I'd seen enough cats do this when they were stalking. Suddenly my own obituary flashed in my head: Carter Kane, 14, tragically died in Paris wen he was eaten by his sister's cat, Muffin.
Rick RiordanYou think I'm playing at some game? You think iron will keep you safe? Hear my words, manling. Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath. Listen. You cannot hurt me. You cannot run or hide. In this I will not be defied.
I swear by all the salt in me: if you run counter to my desire, the remainder of your brief mortal span will be an orchestra of misery.
I swear by stone and oak and elm: I'll make a game of you. I'll follow you unseen and smother any spark of joy you find. You'll never know a woman's touch, a breath of rest, a moment's peace of mind.
And I swear by the night sky and the ever-moving moon: if you lead my master to despair, I will slit you open and splash around like a child in a muddy puddle. I'll string a fiddle with your guts and make you play it while I dance. You are an educated man. You know there are no such things as demons. There is only my kind. You are not wise enough to fear me as I should be feared. You do not know the first note of the music that moves me. -Bast
Mots clés threatening bast the-name-of-the-wind
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