You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.
Patrick RothfussTag: music denna kvothe distant-room
The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.
Patrick RothfussLa sabiduría excluye la audacia... Por eso los buhos no son buenos héroes.
Patrick RothfussThat was another lesson I had learned perhaps too well: people meant pain.
Patrick RothfussTag: inspiration depressing
With slow care rather than stealth we must approach the subject of a certain woman. Her wildness is of such degree, I fear approaching her too quickly even in a story. Should I move recklessly, I might startle even the idea of her into sudden flight.
Patrick RothfussEach woman is like an instrument, waiting to be learned, loved, and finely played, to have at last her own true music made.
Patrick RothfussOver the last month I had pulled a woman from a blazing inferno.
Patrick RothfussOver the last month I had pulled a woman from a blazing inferno. I had called fire and lighting down on assassins and escaped to safety. I had even killed something that could have been either a dragon or a demon, depending on your point of view. But there in that room was the first time I actually felt like any sort of hero. If you are looking for a reason for the man I would eventually become, if you are looking for a beginning, look there.
Patrick RothfussAre you hurt?"
"Absolutely," I said. "Especially in my everywhere.
Tag: hurt sore hurt-everywhere
Auri," I asked slowly, "are you joking with me?"
She looked up and grinned. "Yes I am," she said proudly. "Isn't it wonderful?
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