There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.— Patrick Rothfuss
The most craziest Patrick Rothfuss quotes that are life-changing and eye-opening
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.
When we are children we seldom think of the future.
This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.
It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most.
They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he'll look for his own answers.
I have, of course, been called many other things.
Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned
Re'lar Kvothe," he said seriously. "I am trying to wake your sleeping mind to the subtle language the world is whispering. I am trying to seduce you into understanding. I am trying to teach you." He leaned forward until his face was almost touching mine. "Quit grabbing at my tits.
I walked across the polished marble floor and sat on a red velvet lounging couch. I idly wondered how exactly one was supposed to lounge. I couldn't remember ever doing it myself. After a moment's consideration, I decided lounging was probably similar to relaxing, but with more money in your pocket.
Remember this son, if you forget everything else.
A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart. And, some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly, no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens.
Half of seeming clever is keeping your mouth shut at the right times.
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.
If I seem to wander, if I seem to stray, remember that true stories seldom take the straightest way
There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.
Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath.
You do not know the first note of the music that moves me.
Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us.
When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind's way of protecting itself from pain.
It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think.
All stories are true,” Skarpi said.
“But this one really happened, if that’s what you mean.” He took another slow drink, then smiled again, his bright eyes dancing. “More or less. You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way. Too much truth confuses the facts. Too much honesty makes you sound insincere.
The world is a mess and I just need to rule it.
Anger can keep you warm at night, and wounded pride can spur a man to wondrous things.
Do you know what it's like to run spellcheck for six hours? It's like a party in purgatory. A party in purgatory where all they have to drink is sugar-free Kool-aid, and the only game to play is Monopoly, and none of your friends show up.
To deem us simply enemies is to lose the true flavor of our relationship.
It was more like the two of us entered into a business partnership in order to more efficiently pursue our mutual interest of hating each other.
Too much truth confuses the facts. Too much honesty makes you sound insincere.
Reading can almost be viewed as empathy training.
Movies have better action scenes, sure. But books are uniquely suited to showing you the inside of another person's head. That is the root of empathy. That's the first step to understanding you're not alone in the world.
You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.
There is some conflict between religion and science in my world, but that's nothing new. Science, at its root, is a rational discipline. Religion, on the other hand, is fundamentally trans-rational. Both of them attempt to solve problems, but since their methodology is vastly different, they can't help but come into conflict.
The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.
Only priests and fools are fearless and I've never been on the best of terms with God.
...hear rumors and go digging for the painful truth beneath the lovely lies. You believe you have a right to these things, but you don't. When someone tells you a piece of their life, they're giving you a gift, not granting you your due.
We understand how dangerous a mask can be. We all become what we pretend to be.
Just a little. Just the first faint breath of love... It wasn’t dramatic, like some bolt of lightning with a crack of thunder following. It was more like when flint strikes steel and the spark fades almost too fast for you to see. But still, you know it’s there, down where you can’t see, kindling.
After a certain point is reached the numbers cease to matter, and all that remains is the faceless mass of a crowd.
That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.
But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. This is rare and pure and perfect.
Bones mend. Regret stays with you forever.
How odd to watch a mortal kindle / Then to dwindle day by day / Knowing their bright souls are tinder / And the wind will have its way
I'm kind of balanced between excited about the potential of the project, and the knowledge that I shouldn't get my hopes up. I like to be practical, and the truth is, these deals fall apart all the time.
Music sounds different to the one who plays it. It is the musician's curse.
Using words to talk of words is like using a pencil to draw a picture of itself, on itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating ... but there are other ways to understanding.
But it isn’t a rough draft either. The one I turned in several months ago was rough. There were some bad plot holes, some logical inconsistencies, pacing problems, and not nearly enough lesbian unicorns.
Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woefully small targets.
Truth is a troublesome motherfucker unless it's handled properly
Character is half the reason we read.
We're excited because of the plot, but we care because of the characters.
I also felt guilty about the three pens I'd stolen, but only for a second.
And since there was no convenient way to give them back, I stole a bottle of ink before I left.
You are not wise enough to fear me as I should be feared.
You can have an interesting story about a person living an interesting life.
And if it's done well, that is just as engaging as the end of the world. A million people dying - we can't process. One person, we can process.
You lack the requisite spine and testicular fortitude to study under me.
Roses! I swear you men have all your romance from the same worn book.
Flowers are a good thing, a sweet thing to give a lady. But it is always roses, always red, and always perfect hothouse blooms when they can come by them.
You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way.
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.
I'd like to do an anthology. Maybe a collection of songs set in my world, or based on my world. I think that would be a lot of fun.