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

by Patrick Rothfuss

“Only priests and fools are fearless, and I’ve never been on the best of terms with God.”

It gets tiresome being spoken to as if you are a child, even if you happen to be one.

Bones mend. Regret stays with you forever.”

Besides, anger can keep you warm at night, and wounded pride can spur a man to wondrous things.

AS WITH ALL TRULY wild things, care is necessary when making your approach. Stealth is useless. Wild things recognize stealth for what it is, a lie and a trap. While wild things might play games of stealth, and in doing so may even occasionally fall prey to stealth, they are never truly caught by it.

“Dammit boy, I hope you’re as good as you seem to think you are. I could use someone else around here with Illien’s fire.” He ran a hand through his own red hair to clarify his double meaning. “I hope this place is as good as everyone seems to think it is,” I said earnestly. “I need a place to burn.”

“Keep her always so: unchanging, past my understanding, and safe from harm.”

“That’s only the smallest piece of it,” Bast said. “The truth is deeper than that. It’s . . .” Bast floundered for a moment. “It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.”