Quotes & Sayings About Kvothe

I knew it to be good advice, and ignored it — Patrick Rothfuss

Ambrose turned on his heel and stormed off, but before he made it through the door, Elodin burst out singing:

'He's a well-bred ass, you can see it in his stride!
And for a copper penny he will let you take a ride! — Patrick Rothfuss

So," Chronicler said. "Subjunctive mood." "At best," Kvothe said, "it is a pointless thing. It needlessly complicates the language. It offends me. — Patrick Rothfuss

We can't do anything but snap at each other," I said. "The masters made sure of that. Anything too extreme would get us expelled for Conduct Unbecoming a Member of the Arcanum. Why do you think I haven't made his life a hell?"
"You're lazy?" Wil suggested. — Patrick Rothfuss

I have, of course, been called many other things. Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned — Patrick Rothfuss

And it was a secret thing, of sorts. I have always had a weakness for secrets. — Patrick Rothfuss

Lord but I dislike poetry. How can anyone remember words that aren't put to music? — Patrick Rothfuss

How would you open my chest if you had a mind to?"
Bast's expression grew slightly apprehensive. "Your thrice-locked chest, Reshi?"
Kvothe looked at his student, the laughter bubbled up out of him. "My what?" he asked incredulously.
Bast blushed and looked down. "That's just how I think of it," he mumbled.
"As names go ... " Kvothe hesitated, a smile playing around his mouth. "Well it's a little storybook, don't you think?"
"You're the one who made the thing, Reshi," Bast said sullenly. "Three locks and fancy wood and all that. It's not my fault if it sounds storybook."
Kvothe leaned forward and rested an apologetic hand on Bast's knee. "It's a fine name, Bast. Just caught me off my guard is all." He leaned back again. "So. How would you attempt to plunder the thrice-locked chest of Kvothe the Bloodless? — Patrick Rothfuss

It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he'll look for his own answers. — Patrick Rothfuss

I briefly entertained the notion that I was insane and didn't know it. Then I considered the possibility that I had always been insane, acknowledged it as more likely than the former, then pushed both thoughts from my mind.. — Patrick Rothfuss

You don't understand," I said, growing irritated. "I don't have the slightest idea what the Lethani really is! It's not a path, but it helps choose a path.It's the simplest way,but it is not easy to see.
Honestly,you people sound like drunk cartographers.
-Kvothe — Patrick Rothfuss

[Simmon] "Go on."
I [Kvothe] stayed where I was. "It's not that easy."
"Nothing's ever easy with you," Wilem muttered. — Patrick Rothfuss

Her eyes were dark. Dark as chocolate, dark as coffee, dark as the polished wood of my father's lute. They were set in a fair face, oval. Like a teardrop. Her easy smile could stop a man's heart. Her lips were red. Not the garish painted red so many women believe makes them desirable. Her lips were always red, morning and night. As if minutes before you saw her, she had been eating sweet berries, or drinking heart's blood. No matter where she stood, she was in the center of the room. Do not misunderstand. She was not loud, or vain. We stare at a fire because it flickers, because it glows. The light is what catches our eyes, but what makes a man lean close to a fire has nothing to do with its bright shape. What draws you to a fire is the warmth you feel when you come near. The same was true of Denna. — Patrick Rothfuss

Maple. Maypole
Catch and carry.
Ash and Ember.
Elderberry.
Woolen. Woman.
Moon at night.
Willow. Window.
Candlelight.
Fallow farrow.
Ash and oak.
Bide and borrow.
Chimney smoke.
Barrel. Barley.
Stone and stave.
Wind and water.
Misbehave. — Patrick Rothfuss

Blackened body of God" Sim said,using stronger language than I'd ever heard from him before'
"Kvothe,you're alive. — Patrick Rothfuss

The Chancellor looked down at the empty table for a minute. Then he shrugged, looked up, and gave a surprisingly jaunty smile. All in favor of admitting first-term Kvothe's reckless use of sympathy as proof of mastery of basic principles of sympathy vote by show of hands. — Patrick Rothfuss

...and he was absolutely not a selas sort. — Patrick Rothfuss

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

It is easier to understand if you think of it in terms of music. Sometimes a man enjoys a symphony. Elsetimes he finds a jig more suited to his taste.
The same holds true for lovemaking. One type is suited to the deep cushions of a twilight forest glade. Another comes quite naturally tangled in the sheets of narrow beds upstairs in inns. Each woman is like an instrument, waiting to be learned, loved, and finely played, to have at last her own true music made.
Some might take offense at this way of seeing things, not understanding how a trouper views his music. They might think I degrade women. They might consider me callous, or boorish, or crude.
But those people do not understand love, or music, or me. — Patrick Rothfuss

Where do you think stories come from, E'lir Kvothe? Every tale has deep roots somewhere in the world. — Patrick Rothfuss

Stories don't need to be new to bring you joy. Some stories are like familiar friends. Some are dependable as bread. — Patrick Rothfuss

So rather than risk saying the wrong thing, I said nothing. — Patrick Rothfuss

It's easy to forget when you're around." She stopped walking for a moment and I had to stop too, as she'd linked her arm in mine. "That's not right. I mean to say that when you're around, it's easy to forget."
"Forget what?"
"Everything," she said, and for a moment her voice wasn't quite as playful. "All the bad parts in my life. Who I am. It's nice to be able to take a vacation from myself every once in a while. You help with that. You're my safe harbor in an endless, stormy sea. — Patrick Rothfuss

You were a little wild around the eyes there," she (Denna) said gently. "I don't think I've ever seen you out of sorts before."
I took another slow breath. I'm out of sorts all the time," I (Kvothe) said. "I just don't show it. — Patrick Rothfuss

Kvothe shook his head. No. It began at the University. I went to learn magic of the sort they talk about in stories. Magic like Taborlin the Great. I wanted to learn the name of the wind. I wanted fire and lightning. I wanted answers to ten thousand questions and access to their archives. But what I found at the University was much different than a story, and I was much dismayed. — Patrick Rothfuss

I (Kvothe) started to say something else, but she (Vashet) put her hand over my mouth. I've said I understand. Stop fighting after you have won. — Patrick Rothfuss

Wilem snorted."That doesn't sound suspicious at all," he said. "And you wonder why people talk about you."
"I don't wonder why they talk," I said "I wonder what they say. — Patrick Rothfuss

After an awkward pause, Bast extended his hand. Chronicler hesitated for a bare moment before reaching out quickly, as if he were sticking his hand into a fire.
Nothing happened, both of them seemed moderately surprised.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Kvothe addressed them bitingly. "Five fingers and flesh with blood beneath. One could almost believe that on the other end of that hand lay a person of some sort. — Patrick Rothfuss

She has enough men fawning over her," I said. "They come and go like ... " I strained to think of an analogy and failed. "I'd rather be her friend."
"You would rather be close to her heart," Wilem said without any particular inflection. "You would rather be joyfully held in the circle of her arms. But you fear she will reject you. You fear she would laugh and you would look the fool." Wilem shrugged easily. "You are hardly the first to feel this way. There is no shame in it."
That struck uncomfortably close to the mark, and for a long moment I couldn't think of anything to say in reply. "I hope," I admitted quietly. "But I don't want to assume. I've seen what happens to the men that assume too much and cling to her. — Patrick Rothfuss

Vashet: "I will admit, I've never had a studen offer himself up for a vicious beating in order to prove he's worth my time."
Kvothe: "That was nothing. Once I jumped off a roof. — Patrick Rothfuss

He looked down at me. "Congratulations," he said. "That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen." His expression was a mixture of awe and disbelief
"Ever". — Patrick Rothfuss

With his eyes and those hands there won't be a woman safe in all the world when he starts hunting after the ladies.'
'Courting, dear,' my father corrected gently.
'Semantics,' she shrugged. — Patrick Rothfuss

Celean looked at me for a moment, the hint of a serious line between her pale eyebrows. Then she laughed brightly and brought up her hands.
"I am Celean," she proclaimed. "My mother is of the third stone. I am Adem born, and I am the one who will throw you to the ground."
She was as good as her word. — Patrick Rothfuss

Denna peered out of the hedge toward the path, and I looked at her. Her hair fell like a curtain down the side of her head, and the tip of her ear was peeking through it. It was, at that moment, the most lovely thing I had ever seen. — Patrick Rothfuss

Wilem tapped Simmon's shoulder."He's telling the truth."
Simmon glanced over at him."Why would you say that?"
"He sounds more sincere then that when he lies. — Patrick Rothfuss

You are unmannerly,sharp-tounged, and show no respect for your betters,which is practically everyone given your lowly ravel birth."
"I am Edema Ruh to my bones.
That means my blood is red.
It means I breathe the free air and walk where my feet take me.
I do not cringe and fawn like a dog at a man's title.
That looks like pride to people who have spent their lives cultivating supple spines"
-Kvothe — Patrick Rothfuss

Chronicler picked up his pen, but before he could dip it, Kvothe held up a hand. Let me say one thing before I start. I've told stories in the past, painted pictures with words, told hard lies and harder truths. Once, I sang colors to a blind man. Seven hours I played, but at the end he said he saw them, green and red and gold. That, I think, was easier than this. Trying to make you understand her with nothing more than words. You have never seen her, never heard her voice. You cannot know. — Patrick Rothfuss

THE NAME OF THE WIND marks the debut of a writer we would all do well to watch. Patrick Rothfuss has real talent, and his tale of Kvothe is deep and intricate and wondrous. — Terry Brooks

I am not accusing you of engaging in boyish fancy. I am advising you to avoid the appearance of boyish fancy.
Master Loren to Kvothe — Patrick Rothfuss

Auri took it, and peered inside the small leather sack. "Why this is lovely, Kvothe. What lives in the salt?" Trace minerals, I thought. Chromium, bassal, malium, iodine ... everything your body needs but probably can't get from apples and bread and whatever you manage to scrounge up when I can't find you. "The dreams of fish," I said. "And sailor's songs. — Patrick Rothfuss

This isn't the hand of some swooning princess who sits tatting lace and waiting for some prince to save her. This is the hand of a woman who would climb a rope of her own hair to freedom, or kill a captor ogre in his sleep. And this is the hand of a woman who would have made it through the fire on her own if I hadn't been there. Singed perhaps, but safe. — Patrick Rothfuss

Kvothe looked at Bast for a long moment. "Oh Bast," he said softly to his student. His smile was gentle and sad. "I know what sort of story I'm telling. This is no comedy."
"This is the end of the story, Bast. We all know that." Kvothe's voice was matter-of-fact, as casual as if he were describing yesterday's weather. "I have led an interesting life, and this reminiscence has a certain sweetness to it. But ... "
Kvothe drew a deep breath and let it out gently. " ... but this is not a dashing romance. This is no fable where folk come back from the dead. It's not a rousing epic meant to stir the blood. No.
We all know what kind of story this is. — Patrick Rothfuss

In closing, she advised me to drink more water, get some sleep, and suggested that in the future I refrain from strenuous physical activity in a hot room the day after falling off a roof. — Patrick Rothfuss

Apology now is of little consequence," she said, her voice flat and chill as slate. "Anything you say at this point cannot be trusted. You know I am well and truly angry, so you are in the grip of fear.
"This means I cannot trust any word you say, as it comes from fear. You are clever, and charming, and a liar. I know you can bend the world with your words. So I will not listen."
"Vashet to Kvothe — Patrick Rothfuss

Now," Kvothe said angrily, "you've both acted understandably, but that does not by any means mean that either of you have behaved well. — Patrick Rothfuss

I can't give you the moon," the tinker said. "She doesn't belong to me. She belongs only to herself. — Patrick Rothfuss

You," I said, "are sweet music in a distant room. — Patrick Rothfuss

Still, these days when I daydream about the movie, I don't think about the big picture. It's more fun for me to think of little things that would add to the movie. I like to think the powers that be would let me amuse myself with some small things in order to shut me up while they re-write the screenplay to turn Kvothe into a lesbian, shape-changing unicorn.
— Patrick Rothfuss

Chronicler found himself thinking of a story he had heard. One of the many. The story told of how Kvothe had gone looking for his heart's desire. He had to trick a demon to get it. But once it rested in his hand, he was forced to fight an angel to keep it. — Patrick Rothfuss

You're my safe harbor in an endless stormy sea. You're my shady willow on a sunny day. You're sweet music in a distant room. You're unexpected cake on a rainy day. You're my bright penny on the roadside, you are worth more than the moon on the long night walk. You are sweet wine in my mouth, a song in my throat and laughter in my heart. — Patrick Rothfuss

Kvothe continued, smiling himself "I see you laugh. Very well, for simplicity's sake, let us assume I am the center of creation. In doing this, let us pass over innumerable boring stories: the rise and fall of empires, sagas of heroism, ballads of tragic love. Let us hurry forward to the only tale of any real importance." His smile broadened. "Mine. — Patrick Rothfuss

She washed he hands,then looked at my side. "you haven't even had it stitched?" She said incredulously.
"I've been rather busy," I said. "With the running like hell and hiding all night. — Patrick Rothfuss

The Lethani is the same everywhere," she said firmly. "It is not like the wind, changing from place to place."
"The Lethani is like water," I responded without thinking. "It is itself unchanging, but it shapes itself to fit all places. It is both the river and the rain."
She glared at me. "Who are you to say the Lethani is like one thing and not another?"
"Who are you to do the same? — Patrick Rothfuss

So many thoughts, my kvothe. you know too much to be happy. — Patrick Rothfuss

You know that feeling when you tip your chair too far and begin to fall backward? The sensation was something like that, mixed with self recrimination and the fear of death. — Patrick Rothfuss

If there's one thing I'm well versed in it's my own good qualities. — Patrick Rothfuss

Chronicler wiped the nib of his pen clean, "It's not really my place to comment on the story," he said placidly. "If you say you saw a dragon ... " He shrugged. Kvothe gave him a profoundly disappointed look. "This from the author of The Mating Habits of the Common Draccus? This from Devan Lochees, the great debunker?" "This from Devan Lochees who agreed not to interrupt or change a single word of the story he is recording." Chronicler lay his pen down and massaged his hand. "Because those were the only conditions under which he could get access to a story he very much desired. — Patrick Rothfuss

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. — Patrick Rothfuss

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

I even started a few rumors that were pure nonsense, lies so outrageous that people would repeat them despite the fact that they were obviously untrue.
I had demon blood in me.
I could see in the dark.
I only slept an hour each night.
When the moon was full I would talk in my sleep, speaking a strange language no one could understand. — Patrick Rothfuss

I shook again, tasted plum, and suddenly the words were pouring out of me."She said I sang before I spoke. She said when I was just a baby she had the habit of humming when she held me. Nothing like a song. Just a descending third. Just a soothing sound. Then one day she was walking me around the camp, and she heard me echo it back to her. Two octaves higher. A tiny piping third. She said it was my first song. We sang it back and forth to each other. For years."I choked and clenched my teeth.
"You can say it,"Auri said softly."It's okay if you say it."
"I'm never going to see her again,"I choked out. Then I began to cry in earnest.
"It's okay,"Auri said softly."I'm here. You're safe. — Patrick Rothfuss

A skilled observer might notice there was something his gaze avoided. The same way you avoid meeting the eye of an old lover at a formal dinner, or that of an old enemy sitting across the room in a crowded alehouse late at night. — Patrick Rothfuss

Kvothe, Defend yourself well at the University. Make me proud. Remember your father's song. Be wary of folly. Your friend, Abenthy. — Patrick Rothfuss

I was wondering, Auri. Would you mind showing me the Underthing?"
Auri looked away, suddenly shy. "Kvothe, I thought you were a gentleman," she said, tugging self-consciously at her ragged shirt. "Imagine, asking to see a girl's underthing." She looked down, her hair hiding her face.
I held my breath for a moment, choosing my next words carefully lest I startle her back underground. While I was thinking, Auri peeked at me through the curtain of her hair.
"Auri," I asked slowly, "are you joking with me?"
She looked up and grinned. "Yes I am," she said proudly. "Isn't it wonderful? — Patrick Rothfuss

We lay on our sides, like spoons nesting in a drawer. My arm ended up under her head, like a pillow. She curled snugly along the inside of my body, so easy and natural, as if she had been designed to fit there. - Kvothe - The Name Of The Wind - pg 629 — Patrick Rothfuss