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“When one loves all things of the world, when one has that gift of joy, it is not the armour against grief that you might think it to be. Such a person stands balanced on the edge of sadness – there is no other way for it, because to love as he does is to see clearly.”
― Forge of Darkness
― Forge of Darkness
“Someone coughed nearby, from some huddle of stones, and then spoke. ‘So, who are we fighting for again?’
Fiddler could not place the voice.
Nor the one that replied, ‘Everyone.’
A long pause, and then, ‘No wonder we’re losing.”
― The Crippled God
Fiddler could not place the voice.
Nor the one that replied, ‘Everyone.’
A long pause, and then, ‘No wonder we’re losing.”
― The Crippled God
“Now, invite me in, before I lose my temperature.’
‘Temper, you mean.’
‘No, temperature. It’s getting chilly.”
― Toll the Hounds
‘Temper, you mean.’
‘No, temperature. It’s getting chilly.”
― Toll the Hounds
“No tyrant could thrive where every subject said no. The tyrant thrives when the first fucking fool salutes.”
― Toll the Hounds
― Toll the Hounds
“My flesh is stone. My blood rages hot as molten iron. I have a thousand eyes. A thousand swords. And one mind.
I have heard the death-cry. Was she kin? She said as much, when first she touched me. We were upon the ground. Far from each other, and yet of a kind.
I heard her die.
And so I came to mourn her, I came to find her body, her silent tomb.
But she dies still. I do not understand. She dies still—and there are strangers. Cruel strangers. I knew them once. I know them now. I know, too, that they will not yield.
Who am I?
What am I?
But I know the answers to these questions. I believe, at last, that I do.
Strangers, you bring pain. You bring suffering. You bring to so many dreams the dust of death.
But, strangers, I am Icarium.
And I bring far worse.”
― Dust of Dreams
I have heard the death-cry. Was she kin? She said as much, when first she touched me. We were upon the ground. Far from each other, and yet of a kind.
I heard her die.
And so I came to mourn her, I came to find her body, her silent tomb.
But she dies still. I do not understand. She dies still—and there are strangers. Cruel strangers. I knew them once. I know them now. I know, too, that they will not yield.
Who am I?
What am I?
But I know the answers to these questions. I believe, at last, that I do.
Strangers, you bring pain. You bring suffering. You bring to so many dreams the dust of death.
But, strangers, I am Icarium.
And I bring far worse.”
― Dust of Dreams
PatChat
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— last activity Jun 25, 2017 07:44AM
Book recommendations from Patrick Rothfuss's twitch chat and/or Discord. On the book shelves, click the small "about" link to see why it was added :) ...more
The Little Fairleaf (Audio Book) GIVEAWAY
— 538 members
— last activity Jul 24, 2022 03:10AM
Hi everyone, I am giving away The Little Fairleaf audiobook to anyone who downloads my latest short story, The Other Fairleaf. It is narrated by awa ...more
Aria’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Aria’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
362 books
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1,116 friends
1,008 books
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127 friends
291 books
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40 friends
317 books
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55 friends
621 books
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4,842 friends
623 books
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29 friends
1,345 books
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28 friends
0 books
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7 friends
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