Eragon cried out, and in his desperation he reached for Saphira and the Eldunarí... and without meaning to, he drew from their stories of energy. And with that energy he cast a spell. It was a spell without words... His was a spell of instinct and emotion; language could not contain it.

It got so that when he closed his eyes, letters and words danced in his mind. He thought of little else during that time.

Fame or infamy, either one is preferable to being forgotten when you have passed from this realm.

If he fancied her anymore," Saphira said to both Eragon and Roran, "I'd be trying to kiss Arya myself." "Saphira!" Mortified, Eragon swatted her on the leg.

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 that which you are able to change" ~Oromis to eragon ,Brisingr~618

Of course you like him; everyone enjoys flattery.

The songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living.