Stephen R. Donaldson

"“Then why do you delay? Why do you fear?” Because I am mortal, weak. The way is only clear—not sure. In my time, I have been a seer and oracle. Now I—I desire a sign. I require to see.”"

"It may be that hope misleads. But hate—hate corrupts. I have been too quick to hate. I become like what I abhor."

"I have no special virtue to make me resent him. One must have strength in order to judge the weakness of others. I am not so mighty."

"“Why? Why do you trust me?” The Hirebrand’s eyes gleamed as if he were on the verge of tears, but he was smiling as he said, “You are a man who knows the value of beauty.”"

"It was clear to all there gathered that power is a dreadful thing, and that knowledge of power dims the seeing of the wise."

"Do not hurt where holding is enough; do not wound where hurting is enough; do not maim where wounding is enough; and kill not where maiming is enough; the greatest warrior is he who does not need to kill."

"I would say that happiness lies in serving the Land. And I would say that there is no happiness in times of war."

"It was gray cold and dead from horizon to horizon under the gray dead clouds—not the soft comfortable gray of twilit illusions, of unstark colors blurring like consolation or complacency into each other, but rather the gray of disconsolation and dismay, paradoxically dull and raw, numb and poignant, a gray like the ashen remains of color and sap and blood and bone. Gray wind drove gray cold over the gray frozen hills; gray snow gathered in this drifts under the lees of the gray terrain; gray ice underscored the black, brittle, leafless branches of the trees barely visible in the distance on his left, and stifled the gray, miserable current of the river almost out of sight on his right; gray numbness clutched at his flesh and soul."

"Dreaming is like—it’s like being a slave. Your dreams come out of all the parts of you that you don’t have any control over."

"Foamfollower’s question caught him wandering. “Are you a storyteller, Thomas Covenant?” Absently, he replied, “I was, once.” “And you gave it up? Ah, that is as sad a tale in three words as any you might have told me. But a life without a tale is like a sea without salt. How do you live?”… “I live.” “Another?” Foamfollower returned. “In two words, a story sadder than the first. Say no more—with one word you will make me weep.”"

"“Go to hell,” Covenant mumbled. “Don’t you ever sleep?” “The Bloodguard do not sleep.” “What?” “No Bloodguard has slept since the Haruchai swore their Vow.” With an effort, Covenant pulled himself into a sitting position. He peered blearily at Bannor for a moment, then muttered, “You’re already in hell.”"

"Don’t talk like a damned mystic. Say something I can understand."