Leave The Dead To The Earth. They

Wind Howled Throught The Night, Carrying The Scent That Would Change The World.

I Have A New Name For Pain. What's That? The Obliterator. Because When You're In Pain, Nothing Else Can Exist. Not Thought. Not Emotion. Only The Drive To Escape The Pain. When It's Strong Enough, The Obliterator Strips Us Of Everything That Makes Us Who We Are, Until We're Reduced To Creatures Less Than Animals, Creatures With A Single Desire And Goal: Escape. A Good Name, Then.

Magic Is The Art Of Thinking, Not Strength Or Language.

She Lowered Her Head Until It Was At His Level. He Stroked The Line Of Her Jaw, And Then Pressed His Forehead Against Her Hard Snout And Held Her As Tightly As He Could, Her Scales Sharp Against His Fingers. Hot Tears Began To Slide Down His Cheeks. 'why Do You Cry?' She Asked. 'because... I'm Lucky Enough To Be Bonded With You.' 'little One.

Keep In Mind, Eragon, That No One Thinks Himself A Villain, And Few Make Decisions They Think Are Wrong. A Person May Dislike His Choice, But He Will Stand By It Because, Even In The Worst Circumstances, He Believes That It Was The Best Option Available To Him At The Time.