“I can't give you the moon,” the tinker said. “She doesn't belong to me. She belongs only to herself.”
― The Wise Man's Fear
― The Wise Man's Fear
“But no. It didn't suit him. She should have known. He was not a one for fastening. For holding closed. Neither was he dark. Oh no. He was emberant. Incarnadine. He was bright with better bright beneath, like copper-gilded gold.”
― The Slow Regard of Silent Things
― The Slow Regard of Silent Things
“I have, of course, been called many other things. Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned”
― The Name of the Wind
― The Name of the Wind
“You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.”
― The Wise Man's Fear
― The Wise Man's Fear
“Laying in the dark, she wondered what the day would bring. Some days were trumpet-proud. They heralded like thunder. Some were courteous, careful as a lettered card upon a silver plate.
But some days were shy. They did not name themselves. They waited for a careful girl to find them.”
― The Slow Regard of Silent Things
But some days were shy. They did not name themselves. They waited for a careful girl to find them.”
― The Slow Regard of Silent Things
Malcom’s 2025 Year in Books
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