The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn's ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die. Patrick Rothfuss
The Kingkiller Chronicle: Day One - The Name of the Wind
Jeg dør etter neste bok. Sikl.
Heeia, eg må få Fringe av deg neste gang eg ser deg. (:
SvarSlettJa seff :) Det e den neste eg ska se, glede meg!
SvarSlett