Guy Gavriel Kay

There are no wrong turnings. Only paths we had not known we were meant to walk.

“The Tyrants have cleaned out most of the highway brigands. Just a matter of protecting their own interests. They want to make sure no one else robs us before they do with their border tariffs and taxes.” He spat, discreetly, into the dust of the road. “Personally I preferred the brigands. There were ways of dealing with them.”

A reminder of what it was to be mortal and so doomed to tread one road only and that one only once...We can never truly know the path we have not walked.

Home was a dream she’d had yesterday. A place where children used to play. Among towers near the mountains, by a river, on curving sweeps of white or golden sand beside a palace at the edge of the sea.

He didn’t think he would understand the strangeness of life if he lived to be a hundred years old.

When power is gone the memory of power lingers.

I suppose being right will have to compensate me for being poor—the story of my life, I fear.