Sometimes you have to stand and fight. Sometimes running away isn’t an option.
It’s not the wolves out there,” said Eragon, hugging himself. “It’s the wolves in here.” He tapped the middle of his forehead.
Elva just stared, a wise conversational technique that I recommend in a great many situations.
Everyone dies alone, Eragon. Whether you are a king on a battlefield or a lowly peasant lying in bed among your family, no one can accompany you into the void.
If you wish to remain above the forces here, do not let anyone’s approval dictate your actions.
Understanding breeds empathy.
Fate has a cruel sense of humor, don’t you think?
Power without moral direction is the most dangerous force in the world.
Can someone be truly good if they never have the opportunity to act badly?
What is possible is subjective. It’s a matter of perspective.
For he who has the audacity to determine who should live and who should die no longer serves the law but dictates the law.
I suggest starting with a cat; they have unusual personalities.
You must remain optimistic, for a negative outlook is more of a handicap than any physical injury.
Your eyes are like inscrutable orbs!
I won’t tell you what to believe, Eragon. It is far better to be taught to think critically and then be allowed to make your own decisions than to have someone else’s notions thrust upon you.
He welcomed those limitations, for if he were perfect, what would be left for him to accomplish?
The only certainty is that, eventually, all things shall pass.
That was a heroic deed.” Embarrassed, Eragon scuffed his boots against the ground. “I wouldn’t have survived if not for Arya.” “You are too modest, Argetlam,” she admonished. “It was you who struck the final blow.
False modesty is never admirable, and least of all among those who command others.
The only antidote for the corrosive poison of violence is finding peace within yourself.