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I Am No Poet. I Do Not Love Words For The Sake Of Words. I Love Words For What They Can Accomplish. Similarly, I Am No Arithmetician. Numbers That Speak Only Of Numbers Are Of Little Interest To Me.

-Patrick Rothfuss

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I Am No Poet.

Patrick Rothfuss

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I Am No Poet. I Do Not Love Words For The Sake Of Words. I Love Words For What They Can Accomplish. Similarly, I Am No Arithmetician. Numbers That Speak Only Of Numbers Are Of Little Interest To Me.

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My Most Popular Blogs End Up Being The Ones Where I Talk About Being A Dad.

I Believe A Writer's Most Important Skill Lies In Being Able To See Things From Different Perspectives.

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

What Were You Thinking?" Bast Said With An Odd Mixture Of Confusion And Concern. Coat Was A Long While In Answering. "i Tend To Think Too Much Bast. My Greatest Successes Tended To Come When I Stopped Thinking And Simply Did What Felt Right, Even If There Was No Explantion For What I Did.

I Have Heard What Poets Write About Women. They Rhyme And Rhapsodize And Lie. I Have Watched Sailors On The Shore Stare Mutely At The Slow-rolling Swell Of The Sea. I Have Watched Old Soldiers With Hearts Like Leather Grow Teary-eyed At Their King's Colors Stretched Against The Wind. Listen To Me: These Men Know Nothing Of Love. You Will Not Find It In The Words Of Poets Or The Longing Eyes Of Sailors. If You Want To Know Of Love, Look To A Trouper's Hands As He Makes His Music. A Trouper Knows.

I Think The Tendency To Over-explain And Over Describe Is One Of The Most Common Failings In Fantasy. It's An Unfortunate Piece Of Tolkien's Legacy. Don't Get Me Wrong, Tolkien Was A Great Worldbuilder, But He Got A Little Caught Up Describing His World At Times, At The Expense Of The Overall Story.

...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.

I've Waited A Long Time To Show These Flowers How Pretty You Are.

By Your Logic I Should Also Be In Charge Of Solinade Dances, Needlework, And Horse Thieving.

You Know, I Could Have Carried You.

I'm Not A Speed Writer. I Write Slowly And Revise Obsessively. The End Result Tends To Be Good. That's Where My Strength Is.

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.

It's Not Prowess If You Watch 5 Hours Of Tv A Day. It's Just How You Choose To Spend Your Time.

Elodin Proved A Difficult Man To Find. He Had An Office In Hollows, But Never Seemed To Use It. When I Visited Ledgers And Lists, I Discovered He Only Taught One Class: Unlikely Maths. However, This Was Less Than Helpful In Tracking Him Down, As According To The Ledger, The Time Of The Class Was 'now' And The Location Was 'everywhere.

Speculative Fiction Is Where My Heart Lies. It's What I Read Growing Up, And It's What I Read As An Adult.

Could You Help Me Catch The Moon?” “i Might Be Able To Give You Some Advice,” The Old Man Said Reluctantly. “but First You Should Think This Over, Boy. When You Love Something, You Have To Make Sure It Loves You Back, Or You’ll Bring About No End Of Trouble Chasing It.

I Like Your Manly Bravado," She Said. "do It Some More.

So Stapes Conducted A Dinner For Just The Two Of Us, Then Informed Me Of A Dozen Small But Important Mistakes I Had Made. Setting Down A Dirty Utensil Was Considered Crude, For Example. That Meant It Was Perfectly Acceptable To Lick One's Knife Clean. In Fact, If You Didn't Want To Dirty Your Napkin It Was The Only Seemly Thing To Do.

Why Are You Smiling?' 'i'm Relieved,' I Said Honestly. 'i Was Worried I'd Given Myself Cadmium Poisoning, Or I Had Some Mysterious Disease. This Is Just Someone Trying To Kill Me.

Elodin Looked At Me. "what A Remarkably Honest Threat," He Said. "normally They're Much More Growlish And Gristly Than That." "gristly?" I Asked, Emphasizing The 't.' "don't You Mean Grisly?" "both," He Said. "usually There's A Lot Of, 'i'll Break Your Knees. I'll Break Your Neck.'" He Shrugged. "makes Me Think Of Gristle, Like When You're Boning A Chicken.

Sought We The Scrivani Word-work Of Surthur Long-long In Ledger All Hope Forgotten Yet Fast-found For Friendship Fair The Book-bringer Hot Comes The Huntress Fela, Flushed With Finding Breathless Her Breast Her High Blood Rising To Ripen The Red-cheek Rouge-bloom Of Beauty.

The Desire For Knowledge Shapes A Man.

We Need To Read Good Books, And For That To Happen, We Need To Share Good Books.

Clean, Quick, And Easy As Lying. We Know How It Ends Practically Before It Starts. That's Why Stories Appeal To Us. They Give Is The Clarity And Simplicity Our Real Lives Lack.

This Is How Deeply Rooted Stories Are, Folks. We Crave Them Before We Can Walk, And We Start Telling Them Before We Can Talk.

It's Like The Query Letter Problem That I Just Mentioned, Magnified A Hundredfold. You Might Be Good At Telling A Story, But That Doesn't Mean You Know Anything About Marketing. Or Layout. Or Editing. Or Publicity. Or Selling Your Books For Foreign Markets.everyone Can Point To A Few Examples Of People That Have Done Very Well For Themselves Self-publishing. But Honestly, Those Folks Are Lucky As Lottery Winners.

Then I Played The Song That Hides In The Center Of Me. That Wordless Music That Moves Through The Secret Places In My Heart. I Played It Carefully, Strumming It Slow And Low Into The Dark Stillness Of The Night. I Would Like To Say It Is A Happy Song, That It Is Sweet And Bright, But It Is Not.

What Has Made Me Most Proud - The Things That I've Done That I Feel The Most Pride About - Is Helping People Care About Making The World Better.

If You Can Find Someone Like That, Someone Who You Can Hold And Close Your Eyes To The World With, Then You're Lucky.

If You Open The Door And Realize Things Like The Fact That Batman Is Occupying The Same Narrative Space That Robin Hood Used To Fill 400 Years Ago, Then You Have The Freedom To Ignore The Pointless "what Is Literature" Discussion And Just Talk About Stories.

You Can't Write Good Characters If You Can't Imagine What It's Like Being In Another Person's Skin. And If You Can Imagine That, You Naturally Want Other People's Lives To Be Better. You Want To Make That Happen.

To Be Both Rich And Handsome Was Bad Enough. But To Have A Voice Like Honey Over Warm Bread On Top Of That Was Simply Inexcusable.

The Waystone Was His, Just As The Third Silence Was His. This Was Appropriate, As It Was The Greatest Silence Of The Three, Wrapping The Others Inside Itself. It Was Deep And Wide As Autumn’s Ending. It Was Heavy As A Great River-smooth Stone. It Was The Patient, Cut-flower Sound Of A Man Who Is Waiting To Die.

All Explicit Knowledge Is Translated Knowledge, And All Translation Is Imperfect.

I Won The Only Duel I Ever Lost.

It's Easier To Write About Heartbreak After You've Had Your Heart Broken. You Have More Material To Draw From, You Can Extrapolate From Your Own Experiences And Make Reasonable Assumptions About How Your Characters Would Feel And Act.

Everything Said, You Couldn't Hope For A Nicer Day To Have A Half Dozen Ex-soldiers With Hunting Bows Relieve You Of Everything You Owned.

I'm A Firm Supporter Of The Word Polyamory. But That One Is Close To My Heart.

She Was A Wicked Thing Sometimes. All Full Of Want. As If The Shape Of The World Depended On Her Mood. As If She Were Important.

One Of Them Had A Large Wooden Sign Nailed To Its Door Proclaiming, No Sympathy! I Wondered What Non-arcane Visitors Might Think Of The Warning.

I Take Back Everything I Ever Said About That Boy Being Clever." He Turned Around To Face The Bar While Leveling An Accusatory Finger At The Closed Door. "that," He Said Firmly To The Room In General, "is What Comes Of Working With Iron Every Day.

I've Never Really Understood The Desire People Have To Quantify A Baby. "he's X Big And Y Long," As If The Baby Is A Fish You're Not Sure You're Going To Keep. Or Some Prize Potato You're Hoping Will Win A Prize At The County Fair.

...if I Have Ever Met Someone Without A Single Shadow On Their Heart, It Was Surely A Child Too Young For Speaking.

Whenever You Write A Character, You Want To Make Them Themselves, You Want To Make Them Unique. You Don't Want Fifty Characters In Your Book And They All Pretty Much Act And Think The Same Except They Have Different Colored Hair.

I Have An Apple That Thinks Its A Pear. And A Bun That Thinks It’s A Cat. And A Lettuce That Thinks Its A Lettuce." "it’s A Clever Lettuce, Then." "hardly," She Said With A Delicate Snort. "why Would Anything Clever Think It’s A Lettuce?" "even If It Is A Lettuce?" I Asked. "especially Then," She Said. "bad Enough To Be A Lettuce. How Awful To Think You Are A Lettuce Too.

So Yes. It Had Flaws, But What Does That Matter When It Comes To Matters Of The Heart? We Love What We Love. Reason Does Not Enter Into It. In Many Ways, Unwise Love Is The Truest Love. Anyone Can Love A Thing Because. That's As Easy As Putting A Penny In Your Pocket. But To Love Something Despite. To Know The Flaws And Love Them Too. That Is Rare And Pure And Perfect.

Here's The Thing: Authors Live Or Die By Recommendations. [that's One Of The Reason I Review So Many Books On Goodreads.] Giving Books You Love Good Reviews Is One Of The Nicest Things You Can Do For An Author. What's More It's Good For The Entire Community.

A Poet Is A Musician Who Can't Sing.

Soft Fantasy Worlds Have A Much Looser Cause-and-effect Relationship. Alchemists Can Turn Lead Into Gold And Nobody Wonders About How It Will Impact The Currency System. Someone Waves A Wand And Turns An Elephant Into A Mouse And Nobody Worries About Conservation Of Mass.

Perhaps The Greatest Faculty Our Minds Possess Is The Ability To Cope With Pain.

It's A Shame You Left Without A Word, You Know. She Was Just Beginning To Trust You Before That. Before You Got Angry. Before You Ran Off. Just Like Every Other Man In Her Life. Lusting After Her, Full Of Sweet Words, Then Just Walking Away. Leaving Her Alone. Good Thing She's Used To It By Now, Isn't It? Otherwise You Might Have Hurt Her. Otherwise You Just Might Have Broken That Poor Girl's Heart

I'd Love To Take A Stab At Writing Videogames. There Are A Lot Of Storytelling Opportunities That Really Aren't Being Taken Advantage Of In That Field. I'd Like To Experiment With Telling A Truly Non-linear Story.

I Have Stolen Princesses Back From Sleeping Barrow Kings. I Burned Down The Town Of Trebon. I Have Spent The Night With Felurian And Left With Both My Sanity And My Life. I Was Expelled From The University At A Younger Age Than Most People Are Allowed In. I Tread Paths By Moonlight That Others Fear To Speak Of During Day. I Have Talked To Gods, Loved Women, And Written Songs That Make The Minstrels Weep. You May Have Heard Of Me.

It Gets Tiresome Being Spoken To As If You Are A Child, Even If You Happen To Be One.

Language Is Inexorably Tied To Power And Understanding. And Power And Understanding Are The Roots Of Magic. Just The Act Of Writing Something Down Is A Magical Act.

If You're Going To Have A Book Full Of Clever People And Nobody Ever Jokes, It's Just Not Going To Ring True To The Reader. That Said, Humor Writing Is The Hardest Kind Of Writing There Is.

She Looked At Me. "what? Is There Something Wrong With My Idea?" "it's Not Very Heroic," I Said Dismissively. "i Was Expecting Something With A Little More Flair." "well, I Left My Armor And Warhorse At Home," She Said. "you're Just Upset Because Your Big University Brain Couldn't Think Of A Way, And My Plan Is Brilliant.

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.

Humor Is Important. If You're Going To Tell Any Sort Of Realistic Story, You're Going To Have To Have Humor In It, Because People Are Funny. Clever People Especially.

Caffeine Helps A Lot. That And A Certain Amount Of Isolation.

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.

We Try To Spread The Word About The Charity By Doing Fun Little Stunts To Catch People's Attention. Like When Hank Green Did A Music Video For Us.

That Is Like Throwing Two Virgins Into A Bed. Enthusiasm, Passion, And Ignorance Are Not A Good Combination. Someone Is Likely To Get Hurt.

A Troublesome Question? Those Tend To Be The Only Whorthwhile Kind.

Old Cob Tucked Away His Bowl Of Stew With The Predatory Efficency Of A Lifetime Bachelor.

Most Games Follow A Real Railroad Plot, No Matter What You Want, You're Following Their Storyline To Its Unavoidable Conclusion. I'd Like To Write A Game Where Your Character Can Follow Any Number Of Possible Story Arcs And Sub-plots.

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.

Music Is A Proud, Temperamental Mistress. Give Her The Time And Attention She Deserves, And She Is Yours. Slight Her And There Will Come A Day When You Call And She Will Not Answer. So I Began Sleeping Less To Give Her The Time She Needed.

With His Eyes And Those Hands There Won't Be A Woman Safe In All The World When He Starts Hunting After The Ladies.' 'courting, Dear,' My Father Corrected Gently. 'semantics,' She Shrugged.

There Are Two Sure Ways To Lose A Friend, One Is To Borrow, The Other To Lend.

After An Awkward Pause, Bast Extended His Hand. Chronicler Hesitated For A Bare Moment Before Reaching Out Quickly, As If He Were Sticking His Hand Into A Fire. Nothing Happened, Both Of Them Seemed Moderately Surprised. "amazing, Isn't It?" Kvothe Addressed Them Bitingly. "five Fingers And Flesh With Blood Beneath. One Could Almost Believe That On The Other End Of That Hand Lay A Person Of Some Sort.

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.

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.

There Is Only One Whedon, And I Am His Prophet.

I Would Never Normally Approach A Woman In This Way, But I Couldn't Help But Notice That You Have The Eyes Of A Lady I Was Once Desperately In Love With. " "what A Shame To Love Only Once," She Said, Showing Her White Teeth In A Wicked Smile. "i've Heard Some Men Can Manage Twice Or Even More." I Ignored Her Gibe. "i Am Only A Fool Once. Never Will I Love Again.

I’d Heard You Were Dead.” "i Heard You Wear A Red Lace Corset,” I Said Matter-of-factly. “but I Don’t Believe Every Bit Of Nonsense That Gets Rumored About.

I've Got An Idea For A Modern Day Faerie Tale That I Think Would Made A Great Short Novel. But I Just Don't Have The Time To Work On It Right Now. I'm Way Too Busy With The 'kingkiller Chronicles' And Being A New Dad.

If You're An Actor, You Know People Are Going To Recognize You In A Restaurant. If You're A Rock Star, You Know People Are Going To Stop You On The Street And Ask You For Your Autograph. But As An Author? That's Not Something I Was Ready For.

There Is Something Powerfully Beguiling About The Excited Eyes Of A Young Woman. They Can Pull All Manner Of Nonsense Out Of A Foolish Young Man, And I Was No Exception To This Rule.

I Love Worldbuilding. It's As Much Fun For Me As Writing Itself. It's Like A Hobby Of Mine.

For People Who Don't Know, The Fundraiser Works Like This: People Donate To Worldbuilders And They're Automatically Entered To Win Geeky Swag In The Lottery. We're Just Starting Week Two And We're Already Giving Away More Than $40,000 Of Books And Games.

Ambrose, Your Presence Is The Horseshit Frosting On The Horseshit Cake That Is The Admissions Interview Process.

I Grew Up Reading Tolkien, And I Love Him. But I Love Him In The Way That You Love That Rambly Old Grandfather. You Have To Sit Through Some Pretty Off-topic Stuff Before He Starts Telling His Cool Old War Stories.

I'm Not A Stereotypical Professor Type. I Don't Smoke A Pipe And Wear A Tweedy Jacket. I'm More Like A Student Who Stayed At The University For So Long That They Gave Him A Job To Keep Him Out Of Trouble.

Just Handle The Books Gently And You’ll Get Along Fine.

Some Tropes Are Universal. Boy Meets Girl. Betrayal And Revenge. The Search To Discover A Hidden Truth.... A Mother's Love Isn't Cliché, It's Universal. These Things Are Archetypes. They're The Building Blocks Of Myth And Legend. They Are A Big Part About What It Means To Be Human.

On His First Hand He Wore Rings Of Stone, Iron, Amber, Wood And Bone. There Were Rings Unseen On His Second Hand, One Was Blood In A Flowing Band, One Was Air All Whisper Thin, And The Ring Of Ice Had A Flaw Within. Full Faintly Shone The Ring Of Flame, And The Final Ring Was Without Name.

Owls Are Wise. They Are Careful And Patient. Wisdom Precludes Boldness. That Is Why Owls Make Poor Heroes.

You Have To Be A Bit Of A Liar To Tell A Story The Right Way.

I Swear I've Never Met A Man Who Has Your Knack For Lack Of Social Grace. If You Weren't Naturally Charming, Someone Would Have Stabbed You By Now.

Each Book Needs A Good Beginning And A Good Ending. People Get Pissed Off When You Don't Close Things Off Properly At The End.

Joss [whedon] Is An Excellent Storyteller. It Really Doesn't Matter What Medium He's Working In.

Pride Is Always A Better Lever Against The Nobility Than Reason.

Don't Get Me Wrong, Magic Is Cool. But A Nervous Mother Singing To Her Child At Night While Something Moves Quietly Through The Dark Outside Her House? That's A Story. Handled Properly, It's More Dramatic Than Any Apocalypse Or Goblin Army Could Ever Be.

That Was Another Lesson I Had Learned Perhaps Too Well: People Meant Pain.

There Is Nothing Quite So Delightfully Mysterious As A Secret In Your Own Backyard.

If Your Name Is Getting Too Heavy, You Should Have Kvothe Give You A New One.

You Lack The Requisite Spine And Testicular Fortitude To Study Under Me.

My Only Real Daydreamy Casting Over The Years Has Been Natalie Portman For Denna. She's An Amazing Actress, And Denna Is Going To Be One Of The Hardest Characters To Pull Off.

After A Certain Point Is Reached The Numbers Cease To Matter, And All That Remains Is The Faceless Mass Of A Crowd.

She Taught Me I Should Never Do Anything In Private I Did Not Want Talked About In Public, And Cautioned Me Not To Talk In My Sleep.

A Tree Doesn't Make A Thunderstorm, But Any Fool Knows Where Lightning's Going To Strike.

We Have More Brilliant Fantasy Novels Than Brilliant Fantasy Movies. Movies And Tv Are Done By Committee. But With A Novel, It's Really Just One Person Running The Show. That Allows For A Clarity And Unity Of Vision That's Pretty Unique, Artistically.

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.

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.

I Am No Poet. I Do Not Love Words For The Sake Of Words. I Love Words For What They Can Accomplish. Similarly, I Am No Arithmetician. Numbers That Speak Only Of Numbers Are Of Little Interest To Me.

I Can't Count The Men Who Have Tried To Seduce Me Away From My Virtue By Teaching Me How To Defend It.

It Might Not Be True, But That Doesn't Mean It's Nonsense.

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.

It's Hard To Be Wrongfully Accused, But It's Worse When The People Looking Down On You Are Clods Who Have Never Read A Book Or Traveled More Than Twenty Miles From The Place They Were Born.

With Slow Care Rather Than Stealth We Must Approach The Subject Of A Certain Woman. Her Wildness Is Of Such Degree, I Fear Approaching Her Too Quickly Even In A Story. Should I Move Recklessly, I Might Startle Even The Idea Of Her Into Sudden Flight.

Beer Dulls A Memory, Brand Sets It Burning, But Wine Is The Best For A Sore Heart's Yearning.

I Have Had A Few Gentlemen Let Me Know They Find My Manly Beardiness Somewhat Alluring. Never Any Ladies Though.

There Were Two Sets Of Double Doors Leading Out Of The Antechamber, One Marked Stacks And The Other Tomes. Not Knowing The Difference Between The Two, I Headed To The Ones Labeled Stacks. That Was What I Wanted. Stacks Of Books. Great Heaps Of Books. Shelf After Endless Shelf Of Books.

Death Was Like An Unpleasant Neighbor. You Didn’t Talk About Him For Fear He Might Hear You And Decide To Pay A Visit.

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.

You Still Think I've Gone Cracked In The Head," Ben Said, Amused. "listen, If Tomorrow We Pulled Into Biren And Someone Told You There Were Shamble-men In The Woods, Would You Believe Them?" My Father Shook His Head. "what If Two People Told You?" Another Shake. Ben Leaned Forward On His Stump. "what If A Dozen People Told You, With Perfect Earnestness, That Shamble-men Were Out In The Fields, Eating-" "of Course I Wouldn't Believe Them," My Father Said, Irritated. "it's Ridiculous." "of Course It Is," Ben Agreed, Raising A Finger. "but The Real Question Is This: Would You Go Into The Woods?

What Do They Do To Students At The University Who Eavesdrop?” Bast Asked Curiously. “i Haven’t The Slightest Idea. I Was Never Caught. I Think Making You Sit And Listen To The Rest Of My Story Should Be Punishment Enough.

I Have No Balance. My Life Is A Hot Mess.

I Can't Give You The Moon,” The Tinker Said. “she Doesn't Belong To Me. She Belongs Only To Herself.

I'd Love To Get A Chance To Talk Shop With Joss Whedon. That's Pretty High Up There On The List.

I'm Just Very Careful With My Words When I Write. Obsessively Careful. I'm The Sort Of Person Who Worries About The Difference Between "slim" And "slender."

There Are Few Things As Nauseating As Pure Obedience.

Reading Is Professionally Important For Me To Keep Tuned In To What's Being Written In My Genre, Let's Not Lie. But That's Not The Reason I Read. I Read For My Own Emotional And Mental Health. If I Stopped Reading, I'd Probably Just Die.

We Are More Than The Parts That Form Us.

Name Of The Wind

I Was Just Wondering Why You're Here.

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.

It Wasn't Even A Good Note. 'if You Are Reading This I Am Probably Dead.' What Sort Of A Note Is That?

Name Of The Wind

Now It's Virtually Impossible To Write A Game That Successfully Provides Challenge And Frustration, And That's A Shame. We Are Going To Lose Something That Makes Scientists, That Makes Doers, That Makes Hard-minded, Witty, Clever People, And I Worry That Those People Aren't Being Made These Days.

Practice Makes The Master.

No Man Is Brave That Has Never Walked A Hundred Miles. If You Want To Know The Truth Of Who You Are, Walk Until Not A Person Knows Your Name. Travel Is The Great Leveler, The Great Teacher, Bitter As Medicine, Crueler Than Mirror-glass. A Long Stretch Of Road Will Teach You More About Yourself Than A Hundred Years Of Quiet Introspection.

The Way I Cook It's More Like Mad Science. There's A Lot Of Inspiration And Dramatic Failure With The Occasional Gorgeous Success.

I Loved College. I Wish I Was Still Taking Classes Instead Of Teaching Them.

I Thought Of All The Others Who Had Tried To Tie Her To The Ground And Failed. So I Resisted Showing Her The Songs And Poems I Had Written, Knowing That Too Much Truth Can Ruin A Thing. And If That Meant She Wasn't Entirely Mine, What Of It? I Would Be The One She Could Always Return To Without Fear Of Recrimination Or Question. So I Did Not Try To Win Her And Contented Myself With Playing A Beautiful Game. But There Was Always A Part Of Me That Hoped For More, And So There Was A Part Of Me That Was Always A Fool.

Auri Took It, And Peered Inside The Small Leather Sack. “why This Is Lovely, Kvothe. What Lives In The Salt?” Trace Minerals, I Thought. Chromium, Bassal, Malium, Iodine . . . Everything Your Body Needs But Probably Can’t Get From Apples And Bread And Whatever You Manage To Scrounge Up When I Can’t Find You. “the Dreams Of Fish,” I Said. “and Sailor’s Songs.

It Doesn't Eat Meat." I Said. "it's A Herbivore. It's Like A Big Cow." Denna Looked At Me And Started To Laugh. Not Hysterical Laughter, But The Helpless Laughter Of Someone Who's Just Heard Something So Funny They Can't Help But Bubble Over With It. She Put Her Hands Over Her Mouth And Shook With It, The Only Sound Was A Low Huffing That Escaped Through Her Fingers. There Was Another Flash Of Blue Fire From Below. Denna Froze Midlaugh, Then Took Her Hands Away From Her Mouth. She Looked At Me, Her Eyes Wide, And Spoke Softly With A Slight Quaver In Her Voice, "mooooo.

I've Always Liked The Moonless Night Best. It's Easier To Say Things In The Dark. It's Easier To Be Yourself.

The Day We Fret About The Future Is The Day We Leave Our Childhood Behind.

You May Have Heard Of Me.

Thieves, Heretics, And Whores

Just Because I Tread Heavily On Propriety's Toes Doesn't Mean I Can't Play The Game When It's Of Use To Me.

I'm Honestly Not A Big Fan Of Pitching Things. I'm A Firm Believer Of Letting The Product Speak For Iteself.

I Firmly Believe That We're All Good People, But Sometimes It's Hard To Understand How To Do Good.

Dawn Was Coming. The Waystone Inn Lay In Silence, And It Was A Silence Of Three Parts.

However, While Being Able To Think About Two Things At The Same Time Is A Terribly Convenient, The Training It Takes To Get There Is Frustrating At Best, And At Other Times Rather Disturbing. I Remember One Time I Looked For The Stone For Almost An Hour Before I Consented To Ask The Other Half Of Me Where I'd Hidden It, Only To Find I Hadn't Hidden The Stone At All. I Had Merely Been Waiting To See How Long I Would Look Before Giving Up. Have You Ever Been Annoyed And Amused With Yourself At The Same Time? It's An Interesting Feeling, To Say The Very Least.

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.

I Guess I'm Destined To Be Loveless

You're Sure Your New Roommate Won't Be Like The Last One Who Wore Tinfoil Socks And Had A Tendency To Occasionally Urinate In The Refrigerator. You're Sure You'll Pass Math 106 This Time Around. You're Determined To Actually Join Some Clubs This Year And Not Just Sit Around In Your Dorm Eating Spray Cheese From A Can And Watching Youtube Videos About Cats.

Half A King Is My Favorite Book By Joe Abercrombie So Far, And That's Saying Something.

I Took A Deep Breath, 'i Took The Nahlrout Because I Didn't Want To Faint. I Needed To Let Them Know They Couldn't Hurt Me. I've Learned That The Best Way To Stay Safe Is To Make Your Enemies Think You Can't Be Hurt.' It Sounded Ugly To Say It So Starkly, But It Was The Truth. I Looked At Him Defiantly.

Each Woman Is Like An Instrument, Waiting To Be Learned, Loved, And Finely Played, To Have At Last Her Own True Music Made.

There Is A Difference Between Something Being Essential, And It Being Necessary. If You Take Your Favorite Book And Strip It Down To What Is Merely Essential To Tell The Story, It Would Be Butchery. The End Result Would Horrify You. Essential Is The Bones Of The Story, But The Soul Lives Somewhere Else.

It’s Not Over If You’re Still Here,” Chronicler Said. “it’s Not A Tragedy If You’re Still Alive.

I Think Authors Are Just Realizing There's No Real Reason To Feel Limited To A Narrow Set Of Genre Rules In Their Writing. There's No Reason A Mystery Novel Can't Have Fantastic Elements In It. Similarly, There's No Reason Why Your Epic Fantasy Series Can't Have Elements Of A Mystery.

A Lot Of New Writers Assume You Have To Know The Where The Story Is Going And That It Flows Out As Molten Gold. But Really, Sometimes You Think You Are Going To One Place, But Then You Decide That Is Dumb Idea. Then You Go Somewhere Else And It Is A Worse Idea. But Then You Switch Again And You Might Have A Beautiful Accident.

You Are An Educated Man. You Know There Are No Such Things As Demons." Bast Smiled A Terrible Smile. "there Is Only My Kind." Bast Leaned Closer Still, Chronicler Smelled Flowers On His Breath. "you Are Not Wise Enough To Fear Me As I Should Be Feared. You Do Not Know The First Note Of The Music That Moves Me.

I Will Say The Most Raw Joy I've Experienced Reading Has Probably Come From The Times I've Been Reading With My Little Boys.

I Don't Feel Beholden To Follow The Real World At All. The Important Thing Is To Know Why Things Turned Out The Way They Did. You Need To Understand The Reasons For Events, Or At Least Be Able To Make Reasonable Guesses About Them.

Knowing Your Own Ignorance Is The First Step To Enlightenment.

It Was The Patient, Cut-flower Sound Of A Man Who Is Waiting To Die.

Fear Tends To Come From Ignorance. Once I Knew What The Problem Was, It Was Just A Problem, Nothing To Fear.

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 Was Nervous About Writing Slow Regard.

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.

Humor Is Important For Is Pacing. If Your Whole Book Is Just Drama Drama Drama, It's Going To Wear Down The Reader.

He Then Proceeded To Shout At Alpha And Beta, A Sign That He Was In A Genuine Good Mood. They Took It As Calmly As Ever, In Spite Of The Fact That He Accused Them Of Things I'm Sure No Donkey Has Ever Willingly Done, Especially Not Beta, Who Possessed Impeccable Moral Character.

I Need You To Breathe For Me.

Only A Fool Worries Over What He Can’t Control.

It's One Thing To Not Want An Evil-sorcerer Type Villain In Your Story, But It's Another Thing To Avoid Having Any Sort Of Antagonist At All. A Story Without An Antagonist Gets Weird Pretty Quick.

Truth Is A Troublesome Motherfucker Unless It's Handled Properly

It Was More Exciting When I Didn't Know I Had Permission.

All The Truth In The World Is Held In Stories.

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.

What Are The Three Most Important Rules Of The Chemist?" This I Knew From Ben. "label Clearly. Measure Twice. Eat Elsewhere.

Right Now My Favorite Thing Is Working To Recall Our Absolute Shitbag Of A Governor. He's Been Screwing Up My State For More Than A Year. I Want Him Out.

Favorites Things

When You Read A Fantasy Novel Part Of The Fun Is Getting To Explore A New World. Everyone Knows That. But I Believe The Same Is True About Characters. You Can Explore Interesting People In The Same Way That You Explore A Town Or A Culture.

If I Talk About What I'm Good At, I Seem Like I'm A Conceited Egomaniac.

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.

A Long Stretch Of Road Will Teach You More About Yourself Than A Hundred Years Of Quiet Introspection

Some Of My Arcanum Bunkmates Taught Me A Card Game Called Dogs-breath. I Returned The Favor By Giving An Impromptu Lesson In Psychology, Probability, And Manual Dexterity. I Won Almost Two Whole Talents Before They Stopped Inviting Me Back To Their Games.

When You Love Something, You Have To Make Sure It Loves You Back, Or You'll Bring About No End Of Trouble Chasing It.

I Smiled,"deoch, My Heart Is Made Of Stronger Stuff Than Glass. When She Strikes She'll Find It Strong As Iron-bound Brass, Or Gold And Adamant Together Mixed. Don't Think I Am Unaware, Some Startled Deer To Stand Transfixed By Hunter's Horns. It's She Who Should Take Care, For When She Strikes, My Heart Will Make A Sound So Beautiful And Bright That It Can't Help But Bring Her Back To Me In Winged Light.

I Was Heavily Influenced By My First Attempt At A Novel. I Started A Fantasy Novel Back In High School, And... Well... It Really Sucked. It Was A Plotless, Clichéd Mess.

If I Seem To Wander, If I Seem To Stray, Remember That True Stories Seldom Take The Straightest Way

Anger Can Keep You Warm At Night, And Wounded Pride Can Spur A Man To Wondrous Things.

I'll String A Fiddle With Your Guts And Make You Play It While I Dance.

Name Of The Wind

On The Other Hand, Winning Awards Is Cool. Aside From The Warm Fuzzy, It Creates Publicity, And That Helps Spread The Word About The Book. Plus, This Award Was A Plaque Of Some Sort. I Could Have Used That For All Sorts Of Things. Obviously It Would Be Useful For Decorating The Barren Walls Of My House And Intimidating My Enemies, But That's Just For Starters.

There Are Three Things All Wise Men Fear: The Sea In Storm, A Night With No Moon, And The Anger Of A Gentle Man.

I Only Know One Story. But Oftentimes Small Pieces Seem To Be Stories Themselves.

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.

Too Much Truth Confuses The Facts. Too Much Honesty Makes You Sound Insincere.

In Brief, Worldbuilding Is Different Than Setting In My Opinion. Setting Is A Room. A Backdrop. It's Scenery. But Without Good Worldbuilding, You Can't Have Realistic Feeling Scenery. You Can't Have Cool, Unique Backdrops For Your Story.

The Framed Tale Is, In My Opinion, One Of The Most Natural Ways To Tell A Story. If You Think Of It, The Conceit Of The Frame-less Story Is Actually The Odd Way Of Doing Things. Without The Frame, How Do You Know The Context For A Story?

I Know," She Said. "you Have A Stone In Your Heart, And Some Days It's So Heavy There Is Nothing To Be Done. But You Don't Have To Be Alone For It. You Should Have Come To Me. I Understand.

When The Hearthfire Turns To Blue, What To Do? What To Do? Run Outside, Run And Hide When His Eyes Are Black As Crow? Where To Go? Where To Go? Near And Far. Here They Are. See A Man Without A Face? Move Like Ghosts From Place To Place. Whats Their Plan? Whats Their Plan? Chandrian. Chandrian

The Thing That Helps Me Do A Good Job Is That I Don't Feel The Need To Explain Everything About The World To My Reader. I'm Not Writing A History Text On The Four Corners. I'm Telling A Story That's Set There. The Setting Belongs In The Background For The Most Part, And It's Easy For Fantasy Authors To Forget That. That's One Of The Unfortunate Parts Of Tolkien's Legacy, In My Opinion. Read The First Hundred Pages Of The Fellowship Of The Ring And You Start To Get Pissed, "shut Up About The Shire's Museums! Isn't The World Supposed To Be In Peril Or Something?"

Stories Only Happen To People Who Can Tell Them.

I’d Heard He Had Started A Fistfight In One Of The Seedier Local Taverns Because Someone Had Insisted On Saying The Word “utilize” Instead Of “use.

I Don't Really Have A Lot Of Expensive Tastes. What Else Am I Really Going To Do With My Money? Buy A Little Red Sports Car? Wear A Lot Of Jewelry? Build A Castle? Well... I Might Do The Last One. Maybe. Eventually. But That Doesn't Mean I Can't Run Worldbuilders Too.

We Need Time To Relax And Enjoy Ourselves Too, No Matter How Dark The Story. The Occasional Humorous Moment Helps With That. That's One Of The Things That Joss Whedon Excels At In His Storytelling.

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Jean De La Bruyere

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