"Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep. You may have hear of me."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"When we are children we seldom think about the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind's way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying 'time heals all wounds' is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"We are more than the parts that form us. "
— Patrick Rothfuss

"Just handle the books gently and you’ll get along fine."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"I wanted to tell her that she was the first beautiful thing I had seen in three years. That the sight of her yawning to the back of her hand was enought to drive the breath from me. How I sometimes lost the sense of her words in the sweet fluting of her voice. I wanted to say that if she were with me then somehow nothing could ever be wrong for me again."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

""You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way.""
— Patrick Rothfuss

"Using words to talk of words is like using a pencil to draw a picture of itself, on itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating ... but there are other ways to understanding."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Do you know what it's like to run spellcheck for six hours? It's like a party in purgatory. A party in purgatory where all they have to drink is sugar-free Kool-aid, and the only game to play is Monopoly, and none of your friends show up."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"Music sounds different to the one who plays it. It is the musician's curse."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"'If you are eager to find the reason I became the Kvothe they tell stories about, you could look there, I suppose.'

Chronicler's forehead wrinkled. 'What do you mean, exactly?'

Kvothe paused for a long moment, looking down at his hands. 'Do you know how many times I've been beaten over the course of my life?'

Chronicler shook his head.

Looking up, Kvothe grinned and tossed his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. 'Neither do I. You'd think that sort of thing would stick in a person's mind. You'd think I would remember how many bones I've had broken. You'd think I'd remember the stitches and bandages.' He shook his head. 'I don't. I remember that young boy sobbing in the dark. Clear as a bell after all these years.'

Chronicler frowned. 'You said yourself that there was nothing you could have done.'

'I could have,' Kvothe said seriously, 'and I didn't. I made my choice and I regret it to this day. Bones mend. Regret stays with you forever.'"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"When the hearthfire turns to blue,
what to do? what to do?
run outside, run and hide

when his eyes are black as crow?
where to go? where to go?
near and far. Here they are.

see a man without a face?
move like ghosts from place to place.
whats their plan? whats their plan?
Chandrian. Chandrian"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"My parents danced together, her head on his chest. Both had their eyes closed. They seemed so perfectly content. If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the world with, then you're lucky. Even if it only lasts for a minute or a day. The image of them gently swaying to the music is how I picture love in my mind even after all these years.
"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Elodin proved a difficult man to find. He had an office in Hollows, but never seemed to use it. When I visited Ledgers and Lists, I discovered he only taught one class: Unlikely Maths. However, this was less than helpful in tracking him down, as according to the ledger, the time of the class was 'now' and the location was 'everywhere.'"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"There were two sets of double doors leading out of the antechamber, one marks STACKS and the other TOMES. Not knowing the difference between the two, I headed to the ones labeled STACKS. That was what I wanted. Stacks of books. Great heaps of books. Shelf after endless shelf of books."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"Chronicler shook his head and Bast gave a frustrated sigh. 'How about plays? Have you seen The Ghost and the Goosegirl or The Ha'penny King?

Chronicler frowned. 'Is that the one where the king sells his crown to an orphan boy?'

Bast nodded. 'And the boy becomes a better king than the original. The goosegirl dresses like a countess and everyone is stunned by her grace and charm.' He hesitated, struggling to find the words he wanted. 'You see, there's a fundamental connection between seeming and being. Every Fae child knows this, but you mortals never seem to see. We understand how dangerous a mask can be. We all become what we pretend to be.'

Chronicler relaxed a bit, sensing familiar ground. 'That's basic psychology. You dress a beggar in fine clothes, people treat him like a noble, and he lives up to their expectations.'

'That's only the smallest piece of it,' Bast said. 'The truth is deeper than that. It's . . .' Bast floundered for a moment. 'It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.'

Frowning, Chronicler opened his mouth, but Bast held up a hand to stop him. 'No, listen. I've got it now. You meet a girl: shy, unassuming. If you tell her she's beautiful, she'll think you're sweet, but she won't believe you. She knows that beauty lies in your beholding.' Bast gave a grudging shrug. 'And sometimes that's enough.'

His eyes brightened. 'But there's a better way. You show her she is beautiful. You make mirrors of your eyes, prayers of your hands against her body. It is hard, very hard, but when she truly believes you . . .' Bast gestured excitedly. 'Suddenly the story she tells herself in her own head changes. She transforms. She isn't seen as beautiful. She is beautiful, seen.'

'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. 'But you're close enough to see my point.'"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"She looked at me. 'What? Is there something wrong with my idea?'

'It's not very heroic,' I said dismissively. 'I was expecting something with a little more flair.'

'Well I left my armor and warhorse at home,' she said. 'You're just upset because your big University brain couldn't think of a way, and my plan is brilliant.'"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"... for most practical purposes, Tarbean had two parts: Waterside and Hillside. Waterside is where people are poor. That makes them beggars, thieves and whores. Hillside is where people are rich. That makes them solicitors, polititians and courtesans."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"I also felt guilty about the three pens I'd stolen, but only for a second. And since there was no convenient way to give them back, I stole a bottle of ink before I left."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Its like he knows he's better than you, but doesn't look down on you for it because he knows it's not your fault."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Music is a proud, temperamental mistress. Give her the time and attention she deserves, and she is yours. Slight her and there will come a day when you call and she will not answer. So I began sleeping less to give her the time she needed."
— Patrick Rothfuss

"Go out in the early days of winter, after the first cold snap of the season. Find a pool of water with a sheet of ice across the top, still fresh and new and clear as glass. Near the shore the ice will hold you. Slide out farther. Farther. Eventually you'll find the place where the surface just barely bears your weight. There you will feel what I felt. The ice splinters under your feet. Look down and you can see the white cracks darting through the ice like mad, elaborate spiderwebs. It is perfectly silent, but you can feel the sudden sharp vibrations through the bottoms of your feet.

That is what happened when Denna smiled at me."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Practice makes the master."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"I smiled,"Deoch, my heart is made of stronger stuff than glass. When she strikes she'll find it strong as iron-bound brass, or gold and adamant together mixed. Don't think I am unaware, some startled deer to stand transfixed by hunter's horns. It's she who should take care, for when she strikes, my heart will make a sound so beautiful and bright that it can't help but bring her back to me in winged light.""
— Patrick Rothfuss

"On the other hand, winning awards is cool. Aside from the warm fuzzy, it creates publicity, and that helps spread the word about the book.

Plus, this award was a plaque of some sort. I could have used that for all sorts of things. Obviously it would be useful for decorating the barren walls of my house and intimidating my enemies, but that's just for starters."
— Patrick Rothfuss

""He taught only one class: 'Unlikely Maths'. But since the time was listed as "now" and the place, "everywhere," this was hardly helpful in tracking him down.""
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Abenthy gave me an appraising look. I'd been waiting for it. It was the look that said, "You don't sound as young as you look." I hoped he'd come to grips with it fairly soon. It gets tiresome being spoken to as if you are a child, even if you happen to be one."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

""Now, this pair," he waved the shoes he held, "are new. They haven't been walked a mile, and for new shoes like these I charge a talent, maybe a talent and two." He pointed at my feet. "Those shoes, on the other hand, are used, and I don't sell used shoes."

He turned his back on me and started to tidy his workbench rather aimlessly, humming to himself...

I knew that he was trying to do me a favor, and a week ago I would have jumped at the opportunity for free shoes. But for some reason I didn't feel right about it. I quietly gathered up my things and left a pair of copper jots on his stool before I left.

Why? Because pride is a strange thing, and because generosity deserves generosity in return. But mostly because it felt like the right thing to do, and that is reason enough."
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"I've never really understood the desire people have to quantify a baby. "He's X big and Y long," As if the baby is a fish you're not sure you're going to keep. Or some prize potato you're hoping will win a prize at the county fair.
"
— Patrick Rothfuss

"Chronicler picked up his pen, but before he could dip it, Kvothe held up a hand. "Let me say one thing before I start. I've told stories in the past, painted pictures with words, told hard lies and harder truths. Once, I sang colors to a blind man. Seven hours I played, but at the end he said he saw them, green and red and gold. That, I think, was easier than this. Trying to make you understand her with nothing more than words. You have never seen her, never heard her voice. You cannot know.""
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"Still, these days when I daydream about the movie, I don't think about the big picture. It's more fun for me to think of little things that would add to the movie. I like to think the powers that be would let me amuse myself with some small things in order to shut me up while they re-write the screenplay to turn Kvothe into a lesbian, shape-changing unicorn.
"
— Patrick Rothfuss

""What were you thinking?" Bast said with an odd mixture of confusion and concern.

Coat was a long while in answering. "I tend to think too much Bast. My greatest successes tended to come when I stopped thinking and simply did what felt right, even if there was no explantion for what I did.""
— Patrick Rothfuss

""By your logic I should also be in charge of Solinade dances, needlework, and horse thieving.""
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

""If I'd been whoring before class and waved a corset at him, no one would have thought twice about it!""
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"
"I believe it, Chronicler found himself thinking. Before it was just a story, but now I can believe it. This is the face of a man who has killed an angel.""
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

""I also felt guilty about the three pens I'd stolen. And
since there was no convenient way to give them back, I stole a bottle of ink
before I left.""
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"No hard feelings about that time in the Crucible when you mixed my salts and I was nearly blind for a day. No. No, really, drink up!"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"You're sure your new roommate won't be like the last one who wore tinfoil socks and had a tendency to occasionally urinate in the refrigerator. You're sure you'll pass Math 106 this time around. You're determined to actually join some clubs this year and not just sit around in your dorm eating spray cheese from a can and watching youtube videos about cats.
"
— Patrick Rothfuss

"'But I'm collecting the story of his life. The real story.' Chronicler made a helpless gesture. 'Without the dark parts it's just some silly f—' Chronicler froze halfway through the word, eyes darting nervously to the side.

Bast grinned like a child catching a priest midcurse. 'Go on,' he urged, his eyes were delighted, and hard, and terrible. 'Say it.'

'Like some silly faerie story,' Chronicler finished, his voice thin and pale as paper.

Bast smiled a wide smile. 'You know nothing of the Fae, if you think our stories lack their darker sides. But all that aside, this is a faerie story, because you are gathering it for me.'"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

"'You are an educated man. You know there are no such things as demons.' Bast smiled a terrible smile. 'There is only my kind.' Bast leaned closer still, Chronicler smelled flowers on his breath. '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.'"
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

""Think of all the stories you've heard, Bast. You have a young boy, the hero. His parents are killed he sets out for vengeance. What next?"

Bast hesitated, his expression puzzled. Chronicler answered the question instead. "He finds help. A clever talking squirrel. An old drunken swordsman. A mad hermit in the woods. That sort of thing."

Kvothe nodded. "Exactly! He finds the mad hermit in the woods, proves himself worthy, and learns the names of all things, just like Taborlin the Great. Then with these powerful magics at his beck and call, what does he do?"

Chronicler shrugged. "He finds the villains and kills them."

"Of course," Kvothe said grandly. "Clean, quick, and easy as lying. We know how it ends practically before it starts. That's why stories appeal to us. They give is the clarity and simplicity our real lives lack." "
— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)