I took a bunch of pictures. You can see 'em on my MySpace page, along with my favorite songs and movies and things that other people have created but that I use to express my individualism.
Do I look dead to you?!
From the inheritance series book one Eragon. Broom The sands of time cannot be stopped years pass whether we will them or not, but we can remember.......what has been lost may yet live on in memories, that which you will hear is imperfect and fragmented yet treasure it for without you it does not exist.
My mind is the only sanctuary that has not been stolen from me. Men have tried to breach it before, but I've learned to defend it vigorously, for I am only safe with my innermost thoughts.
The poison dart hidden in the raisin tart.
A good compromise leaves everyone angry.
Forgive me if I stare, I knew you were young, but even then I was expecting someone a little more, well, more.
I didn't think I would ever meet a noble who wasn't corrupt. Now that I have, I find that I prefer them when they're greedy bastards. (Brom to Eragon)
My mind is the only sanctuary that has not been stolen from me.
See this pebble?" "Yes." "Take it." Eragon did and stared at the unremarkable lump. It was dull black, smooth, and as large as the end of his thumb. There were countless stones like it on the trail. "This is your training." 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. Now stop talking or we'll never get anywhere.
Heart broken-he felt a deep ache in his chest, like that of a sore muscle, and each beat of his heart pained him
As they spread out their blankets, Saphira commented with satisfaction, We are becoming more powerful, Eragon, both of us. Soon no one will be able to stand in our way. Yes, but which way shall we choose? Whichever one we want, she said smugly, settling down for the night.
I own a book,' he thought, delighted (Paolini 291).
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?
Fame or infamy, either one is preferable to being forgotten when you have passed from this realm.
Root of a tree, fruit of a vine, let me pass by this blood of mine.
Those whom we most love are often the most alien to us.
To while away the day contemplating evils that might have been is to poison the happiness we already have.
These books are my friends, my companions.
Not anymore. I'm afraid I've degenerated into a bibliophile." "A what?" asked Eragon. "One who loves books," explained Jeod.
I have to admit, that's a remarkable bruise. You should be proud; it's quite a feat to get injured in the manner you did and in that...particular...place.
If he fancied her anymore," Saphira said to both Eragon and Roran, "I'd be trying to kiss Arya myself." "Saphira!" Mortified, Eragon swatted her on the leg.
Ah, pay no heed if your enemies laugh. They'll not be able to once you lop off their heads.
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'.
She gave him a wan smile. "And then you came, Eragon. You and Saphira. After hope had deserted me and I was about to be taken to Galbatorix in Uru'baen, a Rider appeared to rescue me. A rider and a dragon!" "And Morzan's son," he said. "Both of Morzan's sons." "Describe it how you will, it was such an improbable rescue, I occasionally think that I did go mad and that I've imagined everything since.
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