There are few things as nauseating as pure obedience.

I think the best part of being an author is that I get to learn about anything I want and explain it away as research.

But how awful would that be? How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?

If your name is getting too heavy, you should have Kvothe give you a new one.

Everything said, you couldn't hope for a nicer day to have a half dozen ex-soldiers with hunting bows relieve you of everything you owned.

I have an apple that thinks its a pear. And a bun that thinks it’s a cat. And a lettuce that thinks its a lettuce." "It’s a clever lettuce, then." "Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it’s a lettuce?" "Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked. "Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.

I've waited a long time to show these flowers how pretty you are.