They enveloped each other within the folds of their thoughts, holding each other with an intimacy no physical embrace could replicate, allowing their identities to merge once again. Their greatest comfort was a simple one: they were no longer alone. To know that you were with the one who cared for you, and who understood every fiber of your being, and who would not abandon you even in the most desperate of circumstances, that was the most precious relationship a person could have, and they both cherished it.
It goes as it does,Argetlam.You cannot hurry perfection.
Your troubles will always bve my troubles,so long as were married.
Some troubles no one else should have to endure,especially not those you love.
You named your sword Fire? Fire? What kind of a boring name is that? You might as well name your sword 'Blazing Blade' and be done with it. Fire indeed. Humph. Wouldn't you rather have a sword called Sheepbiter or Chrysanthemum Cleaver or something else with imagination?
He tapped one of the ivory spikes between his legs and said, 'There be as good a way to lose your manhood as ever I've seen'.
Her sculptured face was as perfect as a painting.
Let'sss just kill him," said the shorter Ra'zac. "He has caused us much grief." The taller one ran his finger down his sword. "A good plan. But remember, the king's instructions were to keep them alive." -from Eragon, Chapter Title: The Ra'zac's Revenge.
Shall we dance,friend of my heart?" We shall, little one.
But ask yourself this Eragon: If gods exist, have they been good custodians of alagaesia? Death, sickness, poverty, tyranny and countless other miseries stalk the land. If this is the handiwork of divine beings, then they are to be rebelled against and overthrown, not given obeisance, obedience, and reverance.
The songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living.
Keep in mind that many people have died for their beliefs; it's actually quite common. The real courage is in living and suffering for what you believe.
It's better to ask forgiveness than permission. - Brom
Saphira waved her tail, the tip whistling loudly. "I'm not asking you to. However, if we attack first, we may gain the advantage." "Have you gone crazy? They'll..." Eragon's voice trailed off as he thought about it. "They won't be able to do a thing." "Exactly," said Saphira. "We can inflict lots of damage from a safe height." "Let's drop rocks on them!
Half way down, he encountered Saphira, who had jammed her head and neck as far up the stair as she could, gouging the wood in her frenzy. Little one. She flicked out her tongue and caught him on the hand with its rough tip. He smiled. Then she arched her neck and tried to pull back, but to no avail. What's wrong? I'm stuck. You're... He could not help it;he laughed even though it hurt. The situation was too absurd.
You've seen things through my eyes.
Of course you like him; everyone enjoys flattery.
Too late. It's hatched.
One part brave, three parts fool!
It is foolish to conjure up woe where none exists.
do not worry about these things. find peace in where and what you are ~saphira to eragon page 429
Eragon looked back at him, confused. "I don't understand." "Of course you don't," said Brom impatiently. "That's why I'm teaching you and not the other way around.
With her jaws and talons, Saphira tore through an Urgal.
From the corner of his eye, Eragon saw Orik hewing Urgal necks with mighty blows of his ax.
I own a book,' he thought, delighted (Paolini 291).
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