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

by Patrick Rothfuss

When we are children we seldom think of 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.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Kvothe addressed them bitingly. “Five fingers and flesh with blood beneath. One could almost believe that on the other end of that hand lay a person of some sort.” Guilt crept into the expressions of the two men. They let go of each other’s hands.

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.

But for most practical purposes Tarbean had two pieces: 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, politicians, and courtesans.

That’s why stories appeal to us. They give us the clarity and simplicity our real lives lack.”

“There are two sure ways to lose a friend, one is to borrow, the other to lend.”

“Beer dulls a memory, brand sets it burning, but wine is the best for a sore heart’s yearning.”