“Well! I had the most fantastic dream! Trees crying blood. Horrible dead elves going around and killing people! Raistlin wearing black robes! It was the most incredible thing! And you were there, Sturm. Laurana and Flint. And everyone died! Well, almost everyone. Raistlin didn't. And there was a green dragon-'
Tasslehoff stopped. What was wrong with his friends? Their faces were pale, their eyes wide.”
“You know," he said with unusual somberness, "I asked my father once why kenders were little, why we weren't big like humans and elves. I really wanted to be big," he said softly and for a moment he was quiet.
"What did your father say?" asked Fizban gently.
"He said kenders were small because we were meant to do small things. 'If you look at all the big things in the world closely,' he said, 'you'll see that they're really made up of small things all joined together.' That big dragon down there comes to nothing but tiny drops of blood, maybe. It's the small things that make the difference.”
“And my eyes! I see through hourglass pupils and therefore I see time-as it affects all things. Even as I look at you now, Tanis," the mage whispered, "I see you dying, slowly, by inches. And so I see every living thing.”
“Tanis blinked with disbelief, then he heard a sound behind him that nearly made him leap into a tree in panic. He whirled around, heart in his throat, sword in his hand. Raistlin was laughing.”
“The cruelest form of torture one can inflict on a kender is to lock him up. Of course, it is also widely believed that the cruelest form of torture one can inflict on any other species is to lock them up with a kender.”
“He remembered a dog—the only living thing they found in the entire village—curled around the body of a dead child. Caramon stopped to pet the small dog. The animal cringed, then licked the big man’s hand. It then licked the child’s cold face, looking up at the warrior hopefully, expecting this human to make everything all right, to make his little playmate run and laugh again.”
“Raistlin ran to Fizban’s side. “Now is the time for the casting of the fireball, Old One,” he panted. “It is?” Fizban’s face filled with delight. “Wonderful! How does it go?” “Don’t you remember!” Raistlin practically shrieked, dragging the mage behind a pillar as the slug spat another glob of burning saliva onto the floor. “I used to … let me see.” Fizban’s brow furrowed in concentration.”
“Est Sularus oth Mithas”—“My honor is life.”
“The old magician had pulled out a spellbook and was flipping through its pages. “Web … web … how did that go?” he mumbled.”
“That’s it!” cried Fizban. “I remembered!” Suddenly the air was filled with strands of sticky, floating cobweb.”
“Tanis answered. “You’ll slow us up if you don’t.” “The men in my tribe can travel for many days without sleep,” Riverwind said. His eyes were dull and glazed, and he seemed to stare at nothing. Tanis started to argue, then sighed and kept quiet. He knew that he could never truly understand the agony the Plainsman was suffering. To have friends and family—an entire life—utterly destroyed, must be so devastating that the mind shrank from even imagining it. Tanis left him and walked over to where Flint was sitting carving at a piece of wood. “You might as well get some sleep,” Tanis told the dwarf. “I’ll watch for a while.” Flint nodded. “I heard you yelling over there.” He sheathed his dagger and thrust the piece of wood into a pouch. “Defending Que-shu?” Tanis frowned at the memory. Shivering in the chill night, he wrapped his cloak around him, drew up his hood. “Any idea where we are?” he asked Flint. “The Plainsman says we’re on a road known as Sageway East,” the dwarf answered. He stretched out on the cold ground, dragging a blanket up around his shoulders.”
“Fortunately, our friend Raistlin taught me what to watch—” “Raistlin!” Flint puffed. “That pasty-faced, skinny magician. He’s more than half charlatan himself. Always sniveling and whining and poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. If it weren’t for his twin brother looking after him, someone would’ve put an end to his magic long ago.”
“People want to believe in something—even if, deep inside, they know it is false. But”
“Say that our lives are measured not by gain but by giving.”
“The grasslands are endless, And summer sings on, And Goldmoon the princess Loves a poor man’s son. Her father the chieftain Makes long roads between them: The grasslands are endless, and summer sings on. The grasslands are waving, The sky’s rim is gray, The chieftain sends Riverwind East and away, To search for strong magic At the lip of the morning, The grasslands are waving, the sky’s rim is gray. O Riverwind, where have you gone? O Riverwind, autumn comes on. I sit by the river And look to the sunrise, But the sun rises over the mountains alone. The grasslands are fading, The summer wind dies, He comes back, the darkness Of stones in his eyes. He carries a blue staff As bright as a glacier: The grasslands are fading, the summer wind dies. The grasslands are fragile, As yellow as flame, The chieftain makes mockery Of Riverwind’s claim. He orders the people To stone the young warrior: The grasslands are fragile, as yellow as flame. The grassland has faded, And autumn is here. The girl joins her lover, The stones whistle near, The staff flares in blue light And both of them vanish: The grasslands are faded, and autumn is here.”
“Yes, I am smarter than you—all of you. And someday I will prove it! Someday you—with all your strength and charm and good looks—you, all of you, will call me master!”
“We’d better get going.” Caramon glanced around uneasily. “We show up like a jewel in a gypsy dancer’s navel.”
“Tas stared mournfully at the body of the goblin he killed. It had fallen facedown, his dagger buried underneath. “I’ll get it for you,” Tanis offered, preparing to roll the body over. “No.” Tas made a face. “I don’t want it back. You can never get rid of the smell, you know.”
“Death is life’s one great certainty,”
“There comes a time, Laurana, when you’ve got to risk your life for something you believe in—something that means more than life itself.”
“What choice did I have?” Goldmoon cried angrily. “My father wasn’t well. I had to rule or Loreman would have taken over the tribe. Do you know what’s it like—being Chieftain’s Daughter? Wondering at every meal if this morsel is the one with the poison? Struggling every day to find the money in the treasury to pay the soldiers so that Loreman would have no excuse to take over! And all the time I must act as Chieftain’s Daughter, while my father sits and drools and mumbles.” Her voice choked with tears. Riverwind listened, his face stern and unmoving.”
“He said kenders were small because we were meant to do small things. ‘If you look at all the big things in the world closely,’ he said, ‘you’ll see that they’re really made up of small things all joined together.’ That big dragon down there comes to nothing but tiny drops of blood, maybe. It’s the small things that make the difference.”
“Tas pulled himself up over the porch railing with the skill of a burglar. The kender slipped over to the door and peered up and down the bridge-walk. Seeing no one on it, he motioned to the others. Then he studied the lock and smiled to himself in satisfaction. The kender slid something out of one of his pouches. Within seconds, the door of Tika’s house swung open. “Come in,” he said, playing host.”
“New roads demand a hoopak,” was a popular saying among kenderkind. It was always followed immediately by another of their sayings: “No road is ever old.”
“We do not mourn the loss of those who die fulfilling their destinies.”
“Tanis at first wondered what the mage was studying, then realized it was his spellbook. It is the curse of the magi that they must constantly study and recommit their spells to memory every day. The words of magic flame in the mind, then flicker and die when the spell is cast. Each spell burns up some of the magician’s physical and mental energy until he is totally exhausted and must rest before he can use his magic again.”
“Tas had been teasing Flint unmercifully all morning, calling him "Seamaster" and "Shipmate" asking him the price of fish, and how much he would charge to Ferry them back across the lake. Flint finally threw a rock at him, and Tennis sent ass down to the lake to scrub out the pans.”
“Rafa straightens. ‘'Just let me figure a few things out.’'
‘'Like why you didn’t help me?’'
He shrugs, unrepentant. ‘'I thought it was an act. It didn’t cross my mind you wouldn’t fight.’'
‘'If I knew how to fight, Rafa, you wouldn’t still be conscious.’'
That brings a quick grin to his face. ‘'See, now that gives me hope all’s not lost. You’re still in there somewhere.’'
‘'Who’s still in here? Who is it you and those psychopaths think I am?’'
His smile fades. ‘'You really don’t know.”
“The most important things aren’t always in the main story; sometimes the real meaning is scribbled in the margins. You know, when you pick up a secondhand book and people have written stuff in it. Um, read what other people think is important. Maybe they underline a sentence or just a word. Sometimes it has nothing to do with the story but how they feel at the time.”
“Dialectic as a whole, or of one of its parts, to consider every kind of syllogism in a similar manner, it is clear that he who is most capable of examining the matter and forms of a syllogism will be in the highest degree a master of rhetorical argument, if to this he adds a knowledge of the subjects with which enthymemes deal and the differences between them and logical syllogisms.”
“Does she love you?"
"Not yet," Elliott says. "But she will. Araby's used to loving people who've done terrible things.”
“I was trapped in a horrible nightmare that happened to other people, not to me. Not to my family and not to my husband.”
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