“I have heard what poets write about women. They rhyme and rhapsodize and lie. I have watched old sailors on the shore stare mutely at the slow-rolling swell of the sea. I have watched old soldiers with their hearts like… — Patrick Rothfuss Copy Share Image
“My fingers darted, then danced, then flew. I played hard as a hailstorm, like a hammer beating brass. I played soft as sun on autumn wheat, gentle as a single stirring leaf.” — Patrick Rothfuss Copy Share Image
