More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
To avenge wrongs committed long ago by grandfathers long since dead was the aim of both sides. To kill and kill and kill again—this was the Dwarfgate War.
“Oops,” said Tasslehoff Burrfoot.
Classic Tas
While this was never scientifically verified (the gnomes are working on it, having referred it to committee),
Home is someplace you say ‘My, this looks just like it did when I left!’ not ‘My, this looks like six million dragons flew in and wrecked the joint!’ Home is not a place for adventures, Caramon!”
“Easy will it be for us to slip back into our dreamless sleep. For you, Raistlin, there will be no sleep. Only an endless waking, endless listening for sounds that will never come, endless staring into a void that holds neither light nor darkness, endless shrieking words that no one will hear, no one will answer, endless plotting and scheming that will bear no fruit as you turn round and round upon yourself. Finally, in your madness and desperation, you will grab the tail of your existence and, like a starving snake, devour yourself whole in an effort to find food for your soul.
He saw in him a leader of men. Not one who merely waves a sword and leads a charge in battle, but a leader who leads quietly, by drawing the best out of people, by helping them achieve things they never knew were in them.
And he smiled, for he knew by the flinching of the body shielding his and the low cries of anguish, that the weapons were striking her, not him.
the kender frowned and said in a whisper that was audible to everyone in the room, “What are you doing? How can I possibly get you off if you go around telling the truth like that! I simply won’t put up with it!”
“You talk of peace. What peace?” he asked. “We’ve been behaving like children in a house where mother and father have fought constantly for days and now, at last, they’re quiet and civil. We smile a lot and try to be merry and eat all our vegetables and tiptoe around, scared of making a sound. Because we know, if we do, the fighting will start all over again. And we call this peace!” Tanis laughed bitterly.
“Without the bracelet, however, my lord, training in swordmanship will matter very little.” Sir Markham pointed out, drinking another brandy. “A chap who can point at you and say ‘die’ has the distinct advantage.”
For the first time in his life, Caramon reached far down within himself and found the same indomitable will that had led his twin to overcome frailty and pain and even death itself to achieve his goal.
“C’mon,” play Tas irritably, shaking the gully dwarf. “I need your help.” “You go way,” the gully dwarf said in deep, sepulchral tones. “Me dead.”
Looking into the Portal, Tanis saw Raistlin. He saw the final meeting between the twins. Tanis never spoke to anyone of that meeting. Though the visions seen and words heard were indelibly etched upon his memory, he found he could not talk about them. To give them voice seemed to demean them, to take away their terrible horror, their terrible beauty. But often, if he was depressed or unhappy, he would remember the last gift of a benighted soul, and he would close his eyes and thank the gods for his blessings.
The capacity to love, to care, is given to us all—the greatest gift of the gods to all the races.
But reach out your hand, and it will touch the hand of someone reaching out to you, and—together—you will find the strength and hope you need to go on.”
It’s hard—caring—isn’t it, Caramon? It hurts sometimes.”
