So yes.  It had flaws, but what does that matter when it comes to matters of the heart?  We love what we love.  Reason does not enter into it.  In many ways, unwise love is the truest love.  Anyone can love a thing because.  That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket.  But to love something despite.  To know the flaws and love them too.  That is rare and pure and perfect.

You go rummaging around in other people's lives.  You hear rumors and go digging for the painful truth beneath the lovely lies.  You believe you have a right to these things.  But you don't....  When someone tells you a piece of their life, they're giving you a gift, not granting you your due.

...if you have a secret compartment in your lute case and don't use it to hide things, there is something terribly, terribly wrong with you.

It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most.  They teach us how to think.  If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact.  But give him a question and he'll look for his own answers.

I never understood how galling it was.  Some smug bastard with a ledger comes into town, makes you pay for the privilege of owning something.

There can be many opinions on a thing, but there is only one truth.

...no man is brave that has never walked a hundred miles.  If you want to know the truth of who you are, walk until not a person knows your name.  Travel is the great leveler, the great teacher, bitter as medicine, crueler than mirror-glass.  A long stretch of road will teach you more about yourself than a hundred years of quiet introspection.

Nothing but the truth could break me.  What is harder than the truth?

It gets tiresome being spoken to as if you are a child, even if you happen to be one.

Emotions by their very nature are not reasonable things.

My father always claimed that a league wasn't really a unit of measurement at all, just a way for farmers to attach numbers to their rough guesses.