The Slow Regard of Silent Things (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #2.5)

by Patrick Rothfuss

WHEN AURI WOKE, she knew that she had seven days.

first line

There were three ways out of Mantle. There was a hallway, and a doorway, and a door. The last of these was not for her.

It was wise enough to know itself, and brave enough to be itself, and wild enough to change itself while somehow staying altogether true.

Some places had names. Some places changed, or they were shy about their names. Some places had no names at all, and that was always sad. It was one thing to be private. But to have no name at all? How horrible. How lonely.

There were three ways out of Mantle. The hallway was for later. The doorway was for now. The door was oak, bound in iron. Auri did not look at it.

Better still, the slow regard of silent things had wafted off the moisture in the air.

There was a cat, and they ignored each other.

lol

There were three ways out of Mantle. The hallway was dark. The doorway was dark. The door was dark and closed and empty and nothing.

Some were bitter. Some were sweet. Some were hardly anything. That was just the way of things.

the scent of selas flower. Perfect. Thieving was precisely what she needed here.

Denna?

How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?

point

She washed her face and hands and feet.

delightful ocd

Besides, there was a dignity to doing things in your own time.

There were three ways out of Mantle. . . . But no.

Willow too, and he was absolutely not a selas sort.

jealousy?

Her steps were numb and stumbling as more thoughtless step-stones tried to trip her, like a daft old man who won’t stop telling an unfunny joke yet and again.