In my writing, I strive for a lyrical beauty somewhere between Tolkien at his best and Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf.

Why?' - Nasuada 'You know why' - Murtagh

He inclined his head ever so slightly, displaying with his bearing the supreme confidence, even arrogance, that is the sole providence of cats, dragons, and certain highborn women.

HERE LIES BROM Who was A Rider bonded to the dragon Saphira Son of Holcomb and Nelda Beloved of Selena Father of Eragon Shadeslayer Founder of the Varden And Bane of the Forsworn. May his name live on in glory. Stydja unin mo'ranr

If I spent my time worrying about what other people would think of my work, I would be too self-conscious to write.

She lowered her head until it was at his level. He stroked the line of her jaw, and then pressed his forehead against her hard snout and held her as tightly as he could, her scales sharp against his fingers. Hot tears began to slide down his cheeks. 'Why do you cry?' she asked. 'Because... I'm lucky enough to be bonded with you.' 'Little one.

I didn't think I would ever meet a noble who wasn't corrupt. Now that I have, I find that I prefer them when they're greedy bastards. (Brom to Eragon)