Quotes from Christopher Paolini

Die Lieder der Toten sind die Wehklagen der Lebenden.

But now he felt a deep ache in his chest—like that of a sore muscle—and each beat of his heart pained him. His

En primer lugar, no dejéis que nadie gobierne vuestra mente ni vuestro cuerpo y emplead especial atención para no poner límites a vuestras ideas porque se puede ser un hombre libre a pesar de sufrir ataduras más fuertes que las de un esclavo. Escuchad a los hombres, pero no os entreguéis a ellos en cuerpo y alma. Sed respetuosos con los que ostentan el poder, pero no los sigáis ciegamente.

Ugh," said Eragon, hefting his load.

Debes aprender... a ver lo que estás mirando.

Los libros deberían de ir a parar donde más valor se les dé, y no deben quedar almacenados, acumulando polvo en algún estante olvidado.

The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't.

Bücher sollten dort sein, wo sie am meisten gewürdigt werden, und nicht ungelesen in irgendeinem Regal stehen und Staub ansetzen, findest du nicht auch?

To know who you are without any delusions or sympathy is a moment of revelation that no one experiences unscathed. Some have been driven to madness by that stark reality. Most try to forget it. But as much as the name will give others power, so you may gain power over yourself, if the truth doesn't break you.

On the first day from Tarnag, Eragon made an effort to learn the names of Ûndin's guards. They were Ama, Tríhga, Hedin, Ekksvar, Shrrgnien—which Eragon found unpronounceable, though he was told it meant Wolfheart—Dûthmér, and Thorv.

What are those?" he asked.

The universe was so beautiful it hurt. So very, very beautiful. And yet, at the same time, so full of ugliness. Some born of the inexorable demands of entropy; some born of the cruelty that seemed innate to all sentient beings. And none of it made any sense. It was all glorious, horrible nonsense, fit to inspire both despair and numinosity.

hands, and an assortment of scars even Roran respected. He liked what he saw, and he could tell they approved

If you wish to be happy, Eragon, think not of what is to come nor of that which you have no control over but rather of the now and of that which you are able to change.

We are made imperfect and must guard against our flaws lest they destroy us.

Eragon as he pulled back the bowstring and released it with a twang. With a puff of feathers, the crow fell over backward, the arrow protruding from its chest.

He scrambled to his feet, noticing that her own were bare.

A tingle passed through him. Saphira-- I know , she said, her excitement rising. The eggs! Eragon smiled. Eggs! Dragon eggs! As a race, they would not pass into the void. They would survive, and flourish, and return to their former glory, as they had been before the fall of the Riders. Then a horrible suspicion occurred to him. Did you make us forget anything else? he asked Umaroth. If we did, how would we know? replied the white dragon.

You have grown still, and looking into your mind is like peering into a lake so deep, I cannot see the bottom. What is in you, little one? Is it rage? Is it happiness? Or have you no emotions to give? What is in me is acceptance

Master." For several minutes, no one spoke. Eragon tried to guess what the elf was thinking, but could glean no information from his masklike visage. Finally, Oromis stirred. "Were you, perchance, given a trinket of some kind in Tarnag, Eragon?

Me siento como si viviera en un mundo imaginario, en un sueño en el que todo es posible.

The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles.

As he gazed at the sun-darkened, battle-worn warriors before him, he decided that he would rather fight a hundred enemies by himself than have to stand up in public and risk the disapproval of others.

He had never liked Sloan. The butcher always