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
Unconventional Name Of The Wind quotations
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.
I have, of course, been called many other things.
Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned
As clouds are blown away by the wind, the thirst for material pleasures will be driven away by the utterance of the Lord's name.
As clouds are blown away by the wind, the thirst for material pleasures will be driven away by the utterance of the Lord's name.
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.
Like a wind crying endlessly through the universe, Time carries away the names and the deeds of conquerors and commoners alike. And all that we were, all that remains, is in the memories of those who cared we came this way for a brief 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.
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.
It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think.
I pray for my nation, South Africa. As Jesus stood in the boat and commanded the storms to be calm, I stand in the midst of the storm in my nation, South Africa and I command the storm, wind and waves to be calm, in the name of Jesus! I speak calmness to my nation, South Africa, in the name of Jesus!
I'm saying your name in the grocery store, I'm saying your name on the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal covered with frost, your name like a music that's been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud, a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails in wind and the slap of waves on the hull.
You [Scots] come of a race of men the very wind of whose name has swept to the ultimate seas.
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.
Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month! in praise of thee;
Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.
Behind the big names of twentieth-century literature there stands a shadow cabinet of writers waiting to take over once the Wind of Change has blown. My own vote goes to Hugh Kingsmill as leader of this opposition.
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.
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.
Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woefully small targets.
Sword, I name thee Brisingr! And with a sound of rushing wind the blade burst into flame, an envelope of sapphire-blue fire writhing about the razor-sharp steel.
You are not wise enough to fear me as I should be feared.
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.
It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.
You lack the requisite spine and testicular fortitude to study under me.
It wasn't even a good note. 'If you are reading this I am probably dead.' What sort of a note is that?
You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way.
Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain.
THE NAME OF THE WIND marks the debut of a writer we would all do well to watch.
Patrick Rothfuss has real talent, and his tale of Kvothe is deep and intricate and wondrous.
If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the world with, then you're lucky.
I'll string a fiddle with your guts and make you play it while I dance.
Dawn was coming. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
Congratulations. That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen. Ever.