If this road, this series of stepping stones, leads nowhere, then so be it. I walk the road with friends, and so I have my home. – Drizzt Do’Urden.
For what is a rational being if not a choice? And there can be no evil, nor any good, without intent.
There is a difference between finding trouble in your path and going out of your way searching for it,” Jacen said. “We are not galactic police.
No, I say. Because I cannot. I cannot dismiss that which is in my heart and conscience. I am a creature of intelligence and reason. I know what actions please me and put me at ease, and which pain me.
They broke the hug and shared a tremendous kiss, all sloppy and loud, full of fun and full of lust, as only dwarves could do.
My very survival has been based upon my belief that there is a higher purpose to this life: that principles are a reward in and of themselves. I cannot, therefore, look forward in despair, but rather with higher hopes for all in mind and with the determination that I might help to reach those heights. This.
Play for the day,” he told himself. “Win the day, each day, and so you will win the war.
I came to learn that sometimes the most difficult battles are the ones we are forced not to fight.
If I offer my hand to another and he takes it, do I not also have his hand? We are stronger together, but only if the bond of friendship travels from both hands.
I measure my success in life by the added value my presence brought to those whom I loved, and who loved me.
Guenhwyvar padded over to Drizzt’s side and nuzzled its great feline head into the drow’s ribs. “My friend,” Drizzt whispered into the cat’s ear. “Go back now before I lose my courage. Go back to your home and hope that we shall meet again.
Dark elf!” Belwar called as loudly as he dared. “Dark elf, take your panther away. Dark elf!
This, then, was Jango Fett’s greatest reward, right here, sitting with his son, his young replica, sharing quiet moments.
Conscience does not always adhere to rational judgment. Guilt is always a self-imposed burden, but is not always rightly imposed.
You would have me lie? To what end?” Drizzt asked. “Fear is not fealty and worry is not worship.
Ava’til natha pasaison zhah ques po finnud ebries herm. “History is a poem where all lines rhyme.
I pray that the world never runs out of dragons.
Because that’s what tradition does: it robs an individual of their voice. It eschews the solo and focuses solely on the chorus – and woe betide the singer who goes against the conductor!
The journey is more important than the goal, for while the goal might be worthwhile, the journey is, in fact, the thread of your life.
But alone in that tiny cave, Drizzt realized something that distressed him greatly. He couldn’t hide from himself.