The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #1)

by Patrick Rothfuss

As he shouldered his travelsack and satchel, Chronicler found himself feeling remarkably lighthearted. The worst had happened, and it hadn’t been that bad.

Kote shrugged. “My granda always told me that fall’s the time to root up something you don’t want coming back to trouble you.” Kote mimicked the quaver of an old man’s voice. “‘Things are too full of life in the spring months. In the summer, they’re too strong and won’t let go. Autumn . . .’” He looked around at the changing leaves on the trees. “‘Autumn’s the time. In autumn everything is tired and ready to die.’”

She taught me I should never do anything in private that I didn’t want talked about in public, and cautioned me to not talk in my sleep.

And then there was Abenthy, my first real teacher. He taught me more than all the others set end to end. If not for him, I would never have become the man I am today. I ask that you not hold it against him. He meant well.

A clever, thoughtless person is one of the most terrifying things there is.

Needless to say, playing these things hurt, but it was a hurt like tender fingers on lute strings. I bled a bit and hoped that I would callous soon.

UP ONTO THE ROOFTOPS and back to my secret place, I wrapped myself in my blanket and cried. I cried as if something inside me had broken and everything was rushing out.

Once I knew what was bothering me, the greater part of my uneasiness left. Fear tends to come from ignorance. Once I knew what the problem was, it was just a problem, nothing to fear.

As I’ve mentioned, Tarbean has two main sections: Hillside and Waterside. Waterside was poor. Hillside was rich. Waterside stank. Hillside was clean. Waterside had thieves. Hillside had bankers—I’m sorry, burglars.

Then I felt something inside me break and music began to pour out into the quiet.

“That makes me remember something strange in your language. People are always asking me about the road to Tinuë. Endlessly they say, ‘how is the road to Tinuë?’ What does it mean?” I smiled. “It’s an idiomatic piece of the language. That means—” “I know what an idiom is,” Wilem interrupted. “What does this one mean?” “Oh,” I said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just a greeting. It’s kind of like asking ‘how is your day?’ or ‘how is everything going?’ ” “That is also an idiom.” Wilem grumbled. “Your language is thick with nonsense. I wonder how any of you understand each other. How is everything going? Going where?” He shook his head. “Tinuë, apparently.” I grinned at him.

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

“He’s not a bad sort,” I mused after he left. “For nobility.” Wilem nodded. “It’s 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.”

As my father used to say: “There are two sure ways to lose a friend, one is to borrow, the other to lend.”

I couldn’t stand being near music and not be a part of it. It was like watching the woman you love bedding down with another man.

but they are young, and drunk, and busy knowing deep in their hearts that they will never grow old or die. They also know that they are friends, and they share a certain love that will never leave them. The boys know many other things, but none of them seem as important as this.

“Piss on etiquette,” Threpe said petulantly. “Etiquette is a set of rules people use so they can be rude to each other in public.

She looked at me. Looked away. “You think too much of me.” I smiled. “Perhaps you think too little of yourself.”

It had the desperate feel of the last warm night of summer. We spoke of everything and nothing, and all the while I could hardly breathe for the nearness of her, the way she moved, the sound of her voice as it touched the autumn air.

My words startled Deoch into bemused laughter. “God you’re brave,” he shook his head. “And young. I wish I were as brave and young as you.”

As I’ve said before, there is a great difference between being fearless and being brave.

Needless to say, I kept my distance. There are names for people who take advantage of women who are not in full control of themselves, and none of those names will ever rightfully be applied to me.