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

by Patrick Rothfuss

“So Taborlin fell, but he did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. He spoke to the wind and it cradled and caressed him. It bore him to the ground as gently as a puff of thistledown and set him on his feet softly as a mother’s kiss.

“A tinker’s debt is always paid: Once for any simple trade. Twice for freely given aid. Thrice for any insult made.”

So this is the difference between telling a story and being in one, he thought numbly, the fear.

The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.

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.

Of course. Trapis never saw the clothes, only the child inside them.

I pointed out the different types of clouds and what they told of the weather to come. She showed me the shapes they held: a rose, a harp, a waterfall.

Plainly said, he was giving me enough rope to hang myself with. Apparently he didn’t realize that once a noose is tied, it will fit one neck as easily as another.

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

“The color brings out your eyes. Not that they need it. They’re the greenest thing I’ve seen today. Like a piece of spring.”

Lovely as the moon: not flawless, perhaps, but perfect.

“Why would I wear a knife?” Denna asked. “I am a delicate blossom and all that. A woman who goes around wearing a knife is obviously looking for trouble.” She reached deep into her pocket and brought out a long, slender piece of metal, glittering all along one edge. “However a woman who carries a knife is ready for trouble. Generally speaking, it’s easier to appear harmless. It’s less trouble all around.”

“We lure her over the side of a cliff,” Denna said matter-of-factly. “She?” I asked. “Why do you think it’s a she?” “Why do you think it’s a he?” she replied,

“That’s the first thing you said to me. I was just wondering why you’re here. My seven words. I’ve been wondering the same thing for so long.”

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. There are seven words that will make a person love you. There are ten words that will break a strong man’s will. But a word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself.”