The Desire For Knowledge Shapes A Man.

Chronicler Picked Up His Pen, But Before He Could Dip It, Kvothe Held Up A Hand. "let Me Say One Thing Before I Start. I've Told Stories In The Past, Painted Pictures With Words, Told Hard Lies And Harder Truths. Once, I Sang Colors To A Blind Man. Seven Hours I Played, But At The End He Said He Saw Them, Green And Red And Gold. That, I Think, Was Easier Than This. Trying To Make You Understand Her With Nothing More Than Words. You Have Never Seen Her, Never Heard Her Voice. You Cannot Know.

Ambrose, Your Presence Is The Horseshit Frosting On The Horseshit Cake That Is The Admissions Interview Process.

No Hard Feelings About That Time In The Crucible When You Mixed My Salts And I Was Nearly Blind For A Day. No. No, Really, Drink Up!

She Taught Me I Should Never Do Anything In Private I Did Not Want Talked About In Public, And Cautioned Me Not To Talk In My Sleep.

Clean, Quick, And Easy As Lying. We Know How It Ends Practically Before It Starts. That's Why Stories Appeal To Us. They Give Is The Clarity And Simplicity Our Real Lives Lack.