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Patrick Rothfuss

"I want a magical horse that fits in my pocket," Wil said. "And a ring of red amber that gives me power over demons. And an endless supply of cake."

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"I want a magical horse that fits in my pocket," Wil said. "And a ring of red amber that gives me power over demons. And an endless supply of cake."

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Amber Hurdle

"Sam: I wonder if we'll ever be put into songs or tales. Frodo: [turns around] What? Sam: I wonder if people will ever say, 'Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring.' And they'll say 'Yes, that's one of my favorite stories. Frodo was really courageous, wasn't he, Dad?' 'Yes, my boy, the most famousest of hobbits. And that's saying a lot.' Frodo: [continue walking] You've left out one of the chief characters - Samwise the Brave. I want to hear more about Sam. [stops and turns to Sam] Frodo: Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam. Sam: Now Mr. Frodo, you shouldn't make fun; I was being serious. Frodo: So was I. [they continue to walk] Sam: Samwise the Brave..."

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Amber Hurdle

"But the only measure that he knows is desire desire for power and so he judges all hearts. Into his heart the thought will not enter that any will refuse it that having the Ring we may seek to destroy it. If we seek this we shall put him out of reckoning."

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Amber Hurdle

"There is no curse in Elvish, Entish, or the tongues of Men for this treachery."

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Amber Hurdle

"I didn't mean to tell you," Mrs. Whatsit faltered. "I didn't mean ever to let you know. But oh, my dears, I did so love being a star!" "Yyouu are sstill verry yyoungg," Mrs Witch said, her voice faintly chiding. The Medium sat looking happily at the star-filled sky in her ball, smiling, and nodding and chuckling gently. But Meg noticed that her eyes were drooping, and suddenly her head fell forward and she gave a faint snore."Poor thing," Mrs Whatsit said, "we've worn her out. It's very hard work for her."

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Amber Hurdle

"I never want to be apart from you, he said. "I'm going to buy an island and take you there. A ship will come once a month with supplies. The rest of the time it will be just the two of us, wearing leaves and eating exotic fruit and making love on the beach . . .You'd start a produce export business and organize a local economy within a month, she said flatly.Harry groaned as he recognized the truth of it. "God. Why do you tolerate me?Poppy grinned and slid her arms around his neck. "I like the side benefits, she told him. "And really, it's only fair since you tolerate me."

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Amber Hurdle

"Scientists have calculated that the chances of something so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one.But magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten."

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Amber Hurdle

"If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft, red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweller's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."

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Amber Hurdle

"Did I hear things, or can that little dog speak? said Dibbler."He says he can't, said Victor.Dibbler hesitated. The excitement was unhinging him a little. "Well, he said, "I suppose he should know."

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Amber Hurdle

"No,' she said. 'No, I don't reckon that's what I do now. Are you watchin', Mrs Gogol? Are you watchin' real close?' Her gaze travelled the room and rested for just a fraction of a second on Magrat. Then she reached over, carefully, and thrust her arm up to the elbow into the burning torch. And the doll in Erzulie Gogol's hands burst into flame. It went on blazing even after the witch had screamed and dropped it on to the floor. It went on burning until Nanny Ogg ambled over with a jug of fruit juice from the buffet, whistling between her teeth, and put it out. Granny withdrew her hand. It was unscathed."

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Amber Hurdle

"What is a fantasy map but a space beyond which There Be Dragons?"

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"This is the nature of love." Vashet said. "To attempt to describe it will drive a woman mad. This is what keeps poets scribbling endlessly away. If one could pin it to paper all complete, the others would lay down their pens. But it cannot be done."
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"Are you hurt?""Absolutely," I said. "Especially in my everywhere."
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"This is how deeply rooted stories are, folks. We crave them before we can walk, and we start telling them before we can talk."
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"If I could sum it up in 50 words, I wouldn't have needed to write a whole novel about it."
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