By the hurts we accumulate, we measure both our follies and our accomplishments...
Eragon! I never want to hear you use that excuse again, that because someone else has done – or would do – something means that you should too. It’s lazy, repugnant, and indicative of an inferior mind. Am I clear?
If you could have stopped it, or if you could have escaped but you didn’t, then you would have lost my respect. But you did everything you could, and when you could do no more, you made peace with your fate, and you didn’t rail needlessly against it. That is wisdom, not weakness.
The bumblebee was so vibrant, so alive, and so beautiful, its presence renewed Eragon’s will to survive. A world that contained a creature as amazing as THAT bumblebee was a world he wanted to live in.
He was rarely happy throughout his life but he was a good Rider and a good man.
Never ask an elf for help; they might decide that you’re better off dead, eh?
These leaves don’t need to steep long, so drink it quickly before it gets too strong.
It got so that when he closed his eyes, letters and words danced in his mind. He thought of little else during that time.
Whatever you make, base it upon that which is most important to you. Only then will it have depth and meaning, and only then will it resonate with others.
I know what we do is right but right doesn’t always mean easy.
A negative outlook is more of a handicap than any physical injury.
The whole of the world could be deduced from the smallest grain of sand, if one studied it closely enough.
Pain is pain. It needs no description.
What is the worth of anything we do? The worth is in the act. Your worth halts when you surrender the will to change and experience life.
It is a better world. A place where we ate responsible for our actions, where we can be kind to one another because we want to and becauseit is the right thing to do instead of being frightened into behaving by the threat of divine punishment.
The trickster, the riddler, the keeper of balance, he of the many faces who finds life in death and who fears no evil; he who walks through doors.
On the beach, Roran stood alone, watching them go. Then he threw back his head and uttered a long, aching cry, and the night echoed with the sound of his loss.
Magic is the art of thinking, not strength or language.
It’s better to be sworn to an honest fool than to a lying scholar.
It s funny to see a hatchling like you beaten by the old one.