Feel free to call me by my first name: Master.
I'll string a fiddle with your guts and make you play it while I dance.
Re'lar Kvothe," he said seriously. "I am trying to wake your sleeping mind to the subtle language the world is whispering. I am trying to seduce you into understanding. I am trying to teach you." He leaned forward until his face was almost touching mine. "Quit grabbing at my tits.
You know, I could have carried you.
You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.
Bones mend. Regret stays with you forever.