Sojourn

It is better, I think, to grab at the stars than to sit flustered because you know you cannot reach them.

There is a wide world out there, full of pain, but filled with joy as well. The former keeps you on the path of growth and the latter makes the journey tolerable.

You view the gods as entities without," Montolio tried to explain. "You see them as physical beings trying to control our actions for their own ends, and thus you, in your stubborn independance, reject them. The gods are within, I say, whether one has named his own or not. You have followed Mielikki all your life, Drizzt. You merely never had a name to put on your heart.

Is yours an honest lament? ... Most are not, you know. Most self-imposed burdens are founded on misperceptions. We - at least we of sincere character - always judge ourselves by stricter standards than we expect others to abide by. It is a curse, I suppose, or a blessing, depending on how one views it... Take it as a blessing, my friend, an inner calling that forces you to strive to unattainable heights.

The gods of the realms are many and varied -- or they are the many and varied names and identities tagged onto the same being. I know not -- and care not -- which.

the character of the person would outweigh the color of his skin and the reputation of his heritage.

There is a wide world out there, my friend, full of pain, but filled with joy as well. The former keeps you on the path of growth, and the latter makes the journey tolerable.

We - at least we of sincere character - always judge ourselves by stricter standards than we expect others to abide by.

Those who aspire to less accomplish less. There can be no doubt. It is better, I think, to grab at the stars than to sit flustered because you know you cannot reach them.” He shot Drizzt his typical wry smile. “At least he who reaches will get a good stretch, a good view, and perhaps even a low-hanging apple for his effort!

Is morality not an internal force, and if it is, are principles then to be dictated or felt?

I have learned that the ambition of those who follow selfish precepts is no more than a chaotic waste, a finite gain that must be followed by infinite loss. For there is indeed a harmony in the universe, a concordant singing of common weal. To join that song, one must find inner harmony, must find the notes that ring true. There is one other point to be made about that truth: Evil creatures cannot sing.

Guilt, the consequence of conscience, is what separates the goodly persons from the evil.

The surface elves hold out hope in the end. They who have lived the longest and seen the birth of many centuries take faith that the human race will mature to goodness, that the evil in it will crush itself to nothingness, leaving the world to those who remain.

Most self-imposed burdens are founded on misperceptions. We—at least we of sincere character—always judge ourselves by stricter standards than we expect others to abide by.

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

Conscience does not always adhere to rational judgment. Guilt is always a self-imposed burden, but is not always rightly imposed.

In the goblin tongue, knowing from the book that Hephaestus spoke it but hoping that the dragon wouldn't know he knew, Drizzt yelled, "When the stupid dragon follows me out, come out and get the rest!" Hephaestus skidded to a stop and spun about, eyeing the low tunnel that led to the mines. The stupid dragon was in a frightful fit, wanting to munch on the imposing drow but fearing a robbery from behind... ...In the end, Hephaestus settled the dilemma as he settled every problem: He vowed to thoroughly eat the next merchant party that came his way.

For there is indeed a harmony in the universe, a concordant singing of common weal. To join that song, one must find inner harmony, must find the notes that ring true. There is one point to be made about that truth: Evil creatures cannot sing.

o all the varied peoples of the world nothing is so out of reach, yet so deeply personal and controlling, as the concept of god.

Badgers were possibly the meanest creatures in the region

the loss of life is only great to those who chance to live it!

Of all the people I have ever met, none has held themselves to higher standards of honor and decency than Catti-brie.

But in the end, principles would be seen and accepted for what they were, the character of the person would outweigh the color of his skin and the reputation of his heritage.

loudly they—particularly priests of certain gods—might argue otherwise. In the end, to a preacher’s ultimate sorrow, the choice of a god is a personal one, and the alignment to a being is in accord with one’s internal code of principles. A missionary might coerce and trick would-be disciples, but no rational being can truly follow the determined orders of any god-figure if those orders run contrary to his own tenets.

The ranger could cross a rope bridge without handrails, could fire her bow with deadly accuracy atop a charging steed, could scramble up a tree in full chain armor, sword and shield in hand. But she could not, for all of her experience and agility, manage the fancy shoes that Fret had squeezed her feet into.