Brent Weeks Quotes

If an ass goes travelling he will not come home a horse.

A mutt is a dog. He is the stuff of dogginess, a creature allied to species, not breed, and untrammeled by human hand or preference.

My nature just changes.

Even if an ass goes travelling he'll not come home a horse

Who would deduce the dragonfly from the larva, the iris from the bud, the lawyer from the infant? ...We are all shape-shifters and magical reinventors. Life is really a plural noun, a caravan of selves.

Wood may remain twenty years in the water, but it is still not a fish.

A day, a livelong day, is not one thing but many. It changes not only in growing light toward zenith and decline again, but in texture and mood, in tone and meaning, warped by a thousand factors of season, of heat or cold, of still or multi winds, torqued by odors, tastes, and the fabrics of ice or grass, of bud or leaf or black-drawn naked limbs. And as a day changes so do its subjects, bugs and birds, cates, dogs, butterflies and people.

Sometimes I think you like me better as a wolf." "Sometimes I do. It probably has something to do with the way you CAN'T TALK.

I surrendered my beliefs and found myself at the tree of life injecting my story into the veins of leaves only to find that stories like forests are subject to seasons

A poet, any real poet, is simply an alchemist who transmutes his cynicism regarding human beings into an optimism regarding the moon, the stars, the heavens, and the flowers, to say nothing of Spring, love, and dogs.

People told her she hadn't changed much, in a tone which hinted they were surprised and a little disappointed she hadn't.

I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... Why am I so changed? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.

Some dogs act like people and some people act like dogs.

People … don't want to be cured or changed or eliminated. They want to be whoever it is that they've come to be.

It is in the turmoil of chaos that we discover what, if anything, we are.

Four years and everything was the same, except me.

I hear the first drops. Like the tapping of a stranger at the door of a dream, the rain changes everything.

I tried to be someone else, but nothing seemed to change. I know now, this is who I really am inside. I've finally found myself, fighting for a chance. I know now, this is who I really am.

Reality is not protected or defended by laws, proclamations, ukases, cannons and armadas. Reality is that which is sprouting all the time out of death and disintegration.

But buds will be roses, and kittens, cats - more's the pity.

Boredom reigns on all levels. The rain is a welcome change. I have seen the pond swell and the creek surge. I press my palm against the glass, imagining the drops on my skin, imagining where they started out, where they will go, feeling them like a river, rushing, combining, becoming something greater than how they started out.

To get to this place of a warrior’s courage, we must give up the stories that have ruled our lives and shatter the self-image we created to affirm our story.

A lot of people change their band names because they're looking for a change of atmosphere.

Although the butterfly and the caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same.

Who says I can't be free from all of the things that I used to be?