Quotes from Patrick Rothfuss

Durante medio minuto lamentó que no fuera otra clase de día, a pesar de saber que deseando cosas no se conseguía nada. A pesar de saber que no estaba bien hacerlo.

I will break your heart over a fucking library card.

I slid Threpe's sealed letter inside, where it joined the hollow horn with Nina's drawing and a small sack of dried apple I had stowed there. There was nothing special about the dried apple, but in my opinion if you have a secret compartment in your lute case and don't use it to hide things, there is something terribly, terribly wrong with you.

I'd like respect, but failing that, a little healthy fear can go a long way to making things run smoothly.

Name the nine prime fallacies," he snapped. "Simplification. Generalization. Circularity. Reduction. Analogy. False causality. Semantism. Irrelevancy….

It was nice just being near her. You wouldn't think a girl in bandages with a blackened eye could be beautiful, but Denna was. Lovely as the moon: not flawless, perhaps, but perfect. The

Chronicler felt himself go cold as he suddenly realized what a dangerous game he was playing. So this is the difference between telling a story and being in one, he thought numbly, the fear.

Otras veces se había quedado así, vacía como una cáscara de huevo. Hueca y con sensación de presión en el pecho en una oscuridad furiosa, la primera vez que le había oído tocar. Antes de que él le regalara su nuevo nombre, dulce y perfecto. Un trozo de sol que nunca la abandonaba. Era un bocado de pan. Una flor en su corazón.

And remember, small thaws make great floods, so be twice wary of a slowly changing season.

It was worth blood and the fear of death to see her fall in love with him. Just a little. Just the first faint breath of love, so light she probably didn't notice it herself. 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.

No podías nadar contra la corriente ni cambiar la dirección del viento. ¿Y si había tormenta? Pues tenías que atrancar las escotillas y achicar, y no soltar las jarcias.

My fingers darted, then danced, then flew. I played hard as a hailstorm, like a hammer beating brass. I played soft as sun on autumn wheat, gentle as a single stirring leaf.

I hope they spent those last few hours well. I hope they didn't waste them on mindless tasks: kindling the evening fire and cutting vegetables for dinner. I hope they sang together, as they so often did. I hope they retired to our wagon and spent time in each other's arms. I hope they lay near each other afterward and spoke softly of small things. I hope they were together, busy with loving each other, until the end came.

Tenía la cabeza y el corazón cansados. Y aún así, el sueño no venía.

She brought Foxen with, of course. She would hardly trust a place like that to behave in the dark. But since a proper birching of the place required two hands, Auri tied Foxen to a long lock of her hanging hair. Foxen's dignity was somewhat bruised by this, and Auri kissed him in sincere apology for the affront. But they both knew he took a certain secret joy from swingling wildly all about, making the shadows spin and skirl.

Upon him I will visit famine and a fire. Till all around him desolation rings And all the demons in the outer dark Look on amazed and recognize That vengeance is the business of a man.

Think then, how do you entertain the people who have seen your act a thousand times? You dust off the old tricks. You try out some new ones. You hope for the best. And, of course, the grand failures are as entertaining as the great successes.

Están las cosas tan mal como parece? ¿O me he vuelto viejo, como mi padre, y a todo le encuentro un sabor amargo comparado con cuando era niño?

Había aprendido a dormir con cosas mucho peores que aquello. En el pasado, antes de que llegara él. Antes de que ella tuviera su nuevo nombre, dulce y perfecto.

Sabía muy bien que la crueldad no ayudaba a hacer girar el mundo.

Every now and then a book comes along that demands attention - a book you have to stay up all night to finish reading. One which makes you laugh, cry, and takes you on an unforgettable adventure . . .

First, very little is as striking as a well-worn cloak, billowing lightly about you in the breeze. And second, the best cloaks have innumerable little pockets that I have an irrational and overpowering attraction toward. As

Sentirse solo era terrible.

It was better to be gentle and polite. It was the worst sort of selfishness to force yourself upon the world.