37 books
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11 voters
“Each of us must find a way to love the world. You have found yours.”
― The Book of Longings
― The Book of Longings
“You’re too precious to put into words. I think … it’s like one of Theodore’s buttons. If you asked him why he cared about them so, he would tell you it’s because they exist at all.”
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
“The place to improve the world is first in one's own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.”
― Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values
― Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values
“I just don't understand what you see in her," Sim said carefully. "I know she's charming. Fascinating and all of that. But she seems rather," he hesitated, "cruel."
I nodded. "She is."
Simmon watched me expectantly, finally said. "What? No defense for her?"
"No. Cruel is a good word for her. But I think you are saying cruel and thinking of something else. Denna is not wicked, or mean, or spiteful. She is cruel."
Sim was quiet for a long while before responding. "I think she might be some of those things, and cruel as well."
Good, honest gentle Sim. He could never bring himself to say bad things about another person, just imply them. Even that was hard for him.
He looked up at me. "I talked with Savoy. He's still not over her. He really loved her, you know. Treated her like a princess. He would have done anything for her. But she left him anyway, no explanation."
"Denna is a wild thing," I explained. "Like a hind or a summer storm. If a storm blows down your house, or breaks a tree, you don't say the storm was mean. It was cruel. It acted according to its nature and something unfortunately was hurt. The same is true of Denna."
"What's a hind?"
"A deer."
"I thought that was a hart?"
"A hind is a female deer. A wild deer. Do you know how much good it does you to chase a wild thing? None. It works against you. It startles the hind away. All you can do is stay gently where you are, and hope in time that the hind will come to you.”
― The Name of the Wind
I nodded. "She is."
Simmon watched me expectantly, finally said. "What? No defense for her?"
"No. Cruel is a good word for her. But I think you are saying cruel and thinking of something else. Denna is not wicked, or mean, or spiteful. She is cruel."
Sim was quiet for a long while before responding. "I think she might be some of those things, and cruel as well."
Good, honest gentle Sim. He could never bring himself to say bad things about another person, just imply them. Even that was hard for him.
He looked up at me. "I talked with Savoy. He's still not over her. He really loved her, you know. Treated her like a princess. He would have done anything for her. But she left him anyway, no explanation."
"Denna is a wild thing," I explained. "Like a hind or a summer storm. If a storm blows down your house, or breaks a tree, you don't say the storm was mean. It was cruel. It acted according to its nature and something unfortunately was hurt. The same is true of Denna."
"What's a hind?"
"A deer."
"I thought that was a hart?"
"A hind is a female deer. A wild deer. Do you know how much good it does you to chase a wild thing? None. It works against you. It startles the hind away. All you can do is stay gently where you are, and hope in time that the hind will come to you.”
― The Name of the Wind
“A farmer is sitting on his porch in a chair, hanging out.
A friend walks up to the porch to say hello, and hears an awful yelping, squealing sound coming from inside the house.
"What's that terrifyin' sound?" asks the friend.
"It's my dog," said the farmer. "He's sittin' on a nail."
"Why doesn't he just sit up and get off it?" asks the friend.
The farmer deliberates on this and replies:
"Doesn't hurt enough yet.”
― The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help
A friend walks up to the porch to say hello, and hears an awful yelping, squealing sound coming from inside the house.
"What's that terrifyin' sound?" asks the friend.
"It's my dog," said the farmer. "He's sittin' on a nail."
"Why doesn't he just sit up and get off it?" asks the friend.
The farmer deliberates on this and replies:
"Doesn't hurt enough yet.”
― The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help
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