The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm (Tales from Alagaësia, #1)

by Christopher Paolini

Always there will be work, she said, walking over to the desk. The tips of her gleaming claws tapped against the stone. Always there will be those who need something of us, but you have to take care of yourself, little one. You’ve done enough for the day. Put aside your pen and let go of your worries. There is still light in the sky. Go spar with Blödhgarm or butt heads with Skarghaz or do something other than sit and smolder.

“That…is a very impressive scar. You should be proud of it.” Confused, she looked back at him. “Why? It’s ugly, and I hate it.” A faint smile played around the corners of his lips. “Because a scar means you survived. It means you’re tough and hard to kill. It means you lived. A scar is something to admire.”

Outside the Fulsome Feast, Murtagh lifted his head and took a deep breath of the night air. Soft petals of snow fell around him, and the whole city felt still and quiet, muffled beneath a low layer of clouds. His heart was pounding; it had yet to slow after the fight in the tavern.

MURTAGH ❤️ I’ve missed you, old friend/book crush

“In light of my impending dotage, I decided to put pen to paper and write an account of my life. An autobiography of sorts, if you will.” “Your impending dotage, eh?” The curly-haired woman didn’t look any older than her early twenties. Eragon hefted the packet. “And what am I supposed to do with this?” “Read it, of course!” said Angela. “Why else would I traipse across the whole of Alagaësia and beyond but to get the informed opinion of a man raised as an illiterate farmer?”

She made an expression of mock outrage. “Here now! You dare question my conviction, Shur’tugal?!”

Oh god I forgot just how many nicknames others have for Eragon

Many will advise you to dig for the truth, but you must never, never do that. I have dug. I have seen what lies below, and I would not wish that upon the worst of you. Strive for wisdom! Or at least a decrease in idiocy.

Elva just stared, a wise conversational technique that I recommend in a great many situations.

“Perhaps, but blaming the dead for our mistakes never accomplishes much.” The clacking of the herbalist’s needles continued at the same steady pace as she gave him a thoughtful look and said, “My, you have grown wise in your old age.” “Not really. I’m just trying to avoid making the same mistakes as before.” “One could argue that is the definition of wisdom.” He half smiled. “One could, but just avoiding mistakes isn’t enough to make a person wise. Does a turtle that lives alone under a rock for a hundred years really learn anything?”

Just because something was did not mean it should always be.

Happiness, Eragon had decided, was a fleeting, futile thing to pursue. Contentment, on the other hand, was a far more worthwhile goal.