"Metal rusts, music lasts forever.

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











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

More Patrick Rothfuss quotes
"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...
"You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.
"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 ...
"As I fingered my way through the songs, I felt my worries slough away. My music has always been the best remedy for my dark moods. As I sang, even my ...
"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 tellin...
"Maple. MaypoleCatch and carry.Ash and Ember.Elderberry.Woolen. Woman.Moon at night.Willow. Window.Candlelight.Fallow farrow.Ash and oak.Bide and borro...
"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, st...
"You will not find it in the words of poets or the longing eyes of sailors. If you want to know of love, look to a trouper's hands as he makes his musi...
"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...
"Wilem: 'What is the word for that here? A man who is intimate with both women and men?''Lucky?' Denna suggested. 'Tired? Ambidextrous?''Ambisextrous,'...
"I can't give you the moon,” the tinker said. “She doesn't belong to me. She belongs only to herself.
"...If there's one thing I'm well versed in it's my own good qualities.
"Maple. MaypoleCatch and carry.Ash and Ember.Elderberry.Woolen. Woman.Moon at night.Willow. Window.Candlelight.Fallow farrow.Ash and oak.Bide and borro...
"Sought we the Scrivani word-work of SurthurLong-lost in ledger all hope forgotten.Yet fast-found for friendship fair the book-bringerHot comes the hun...

