Quotes by Patrick Rothfuss

Pride is always a better lever against the nobility than reason.

My father referred to it as the finest song ever written for fifteen fingers. He made me play it when I was getting too full of myself and felt I needed humbling. Suffice to say I practice it with fair regularity, sometimes more than once a day.

Pride and folly, they go together like two tightly grasping hands.

I am Edema Ruh to my bones. That means my blood is red. It means I breathe the free air and walk where my feet take me. I do not cringe and fawn like a dog at a mans title. That looks like pride to people who have spent their lives cultivating supple spines.

Pride is the luxury of the strong.

You are unmannerly,sharp-tounged, and show no respect for your betters,which is practically everyone given your lowly ravel birth.I am Edema Ruh to my bones.That means my blood is red.It means I breathe the free air and walk where my feet take me.I do not cringe and fawn like a dog at a mans title.That looks like pride to people who have spent their lives cultivating supple spines-Kvothe

But for half a minute she wished it was a different sort of day, even though she knew that nothing good could come from wanting at the world.

Losing Foxen was bad. It would leave her blind and lonely in the dark. Being trapped beneath the pipes and choking out her life was awful too. But neither of those things were wrong.

When someone tells you a piece of their life, they’re giving you a gift, not granting you your due.

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.

The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our chilhood behind.

Oh yes. It was well worth it, doing things the proper way.

She was not vain enough to work her will against the world. But she could use the things the world had given her.

But for half a minute she wished it was a different sort of day, even though she knew that nothing good could come from wanting at the world. Even though she knew it was a wicked thing to do.

She shelled the nuts and toasted them, jiggling them about in the pan. She sprinkled them with salt and ate them each by each. Some were bitter. Some were sweet. Some were hardly anything. That was just the way of things.

Patience and propriety. It was the only graceful thing to do.

Kvothe continued, smiling himself “I see you laugh. Very well, for simplicity’s sake, let us assume I am the center of creation. In doing this, let us pass over innumerable boring stories: the rise and fall of empires, sagas of heroism, ballads of tragic love. Let us hurry forward to the only tale of any real importance.” His smile broadened. “Mine.

A tree doesnt make a thunderstorm, but any fool knows where lighting´s going to strike.

There is something deeply satisfying in shaping something with your hands. Proper artificing is like a song made solid. It is an act of creation.

If you are eager to find the reason I became the Kvothe they tell stories about, you could look there, I suppose.Chroniclers forehead wrinkled. What do you mean, exactly?Kvothe paused for a long moment, looking down at his hands. Do you know how many times Ive been beaten over the course of my life?Chronicler shook his head.Looking up, Kvothe grinned and tossed his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. Neither do I. Youd think that sort of thing would stick in a persons mind. Youd think I would remember how many bones Ive had broken. Youd think Id remember the stitches and bandages. He shook his head. I dont. I remember that young boy sobbing in the dark. Clear as a bell after all these years.Chronicler frowned. You said yourself that there was nothing you could have done.I could have, Kvothe said seriously, and I didnt. I made my choice and I regret it to this day. Bones mend. Regret stays with you forever.