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.
Patrick RothfussA tree doesn't make a thunderstorm, but any fool knows where lightning's going to strike.
Patrick RothfussThe air was heavy with the smell of leather and dust, of old parchment and binding glue. It smelled of secrets.
Patrick Rothfuss