Close your mouth, E'lir Kvothe, or I will feel obliged to put some vile tonic in it.

You are not wise enough to fear me as I should be feared.

In my opinion there are two basic questions that any writer tries to answer. "What is?" is the question non-fiction asks. "What if?" is the question fiction asks. That's the question I'm more interested in.

I spoke it soft, but close enough to brush against her lips. I spoke it quiet, but near enough so that the sound of it went twining through her hair. I spoke it hard and firm and dark and sweet.

I was nervous about writing Slow Regard.

Beer dulls a memory, brand sets it burning, but wine is the best for a sore heart's yearning.

We all become what we pretend to be.