The Wise Man's Fear (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #2)

by Patrick Rothfuss

I’d heard he had started a fistfight in one of the seedier local taverns because someone had insisted on saying the word “utilize” instead of “use.”

In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.

In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.

“Everyone have their parts?” Kvothe picked up the cloth from the bar and walked through the doorway into the kitchen, saying, “Enter Old Cob. Stage left.”