Patrick Rothfuss
Patrick Rothfuss
Patrick James Rothfussis an American writer of epic fantasy. He is best known for his projected three-volume series The Kingkiller Chronicle...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth6 June 1973
CityMadison, WI
CountryUnited States of America
eye men excited
There is something powerfully beguiling about the excited eyes of a young woman. They can pull all manner of nonsense out of a foolish young man, and I was no exception to this rule.
stupid eye hair
Simmon pushed his hair out of his eyes, laughing boyishly. "You can't argue your way out of this one! She's obviously stupid for you. And you're just plain stupid, so it's a great match.
knowing facts
Small facts lead to great knowing.
book winning giving
For people who don't know, the fundraiser works like this: people donate to Worldbuilders and they're automatically entered to win geeky swag in the lottery. We're just starting week two and we're already giving away more than $40,000 of books and games.
important three labels
What are the three most important rules of the chemist?" This I knew from Ben. "Label clearly. Measure twice. Eat elsewhere.
mistake dark light
Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath.
cake interviews process
Ambrose, your presence is the horseshit frosting on the horseshit cake that is the admissions interview process.
fun trying charity
We try to spread the word about the charity by doing fun little stunts to catch people's attention. Like when Hank Green did a music video for us.
pie fruit meat
How about this?' Simmon asked me. "Which is worse, stealing a pie or killing Ambrose?" I gave it a moment's hard thought. "A meat pie, or a fruit pie?
play strings name-of-the-wind
I'll string a fiddle with your guts and make you play it while I dance.
sweet world want
Isn't that the way of the world? We want the sweet things, but we need the unpleasant ones.
balance hot mess
I have no balance. My life is a hot mess.
kings lying love-you
I have heard what poets write about women. They rhyme and rhapsodize and lie. I have watched sailors on the shore stare mutely at the slow-rolling swell of the sea. I have watched old soldiers with hearts like leather grow teary-eyed at their king's colors stretched against the wind. Listen to me: these men know nothing of love. 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 music. A trouper knows.
lying past men
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.