Tad Williams Quotes

We trolls say: “Make Philosophy your evening guest, but do not let her stay the night.”

A king’s son has nothing but inferiors, each one a potential assassin.

It would please me your not being obsequious. That is a trait of marketplace people who are selling shoddy goods. I am sure to prefer endless, stupid questions to that."
"Ob...obseek...?"
"Obsequious. Flattering with oiliness. It is not liked by me. In Yiqanuc we say: 'Send the man with the oily tongue to go and lick the snowshoes.'

Simple answers to life’s questioning. That would be a magic beyond any I have ever been seeing.

Why can nothing be simple?"
Geloë shifted on her stool. The wise woman's voice was surprisingly sympathetic. "Because nothing is simple, Prince Josua.

Thank you, Duke," the troll said seriously. "May your god be blessing us indeed. We go into unknown places."
"As do all mortals," Josua added. "Sooner or later.

Things are not always as old songs tell them to be—especially when it is concerning dragons.

I shall endeavor to turn dross to purest Metal Absolute: in short, to teach you something.

It was impossible to see warfare as anything other than what Morgenes had once termed it: a kind of hell on earth that impatient mankind had arranged so it would not have to wait for the afterlife.

The manchildren, the mortals, have many ideas of what happens after they die, and wrangle about who is right and who is wrong. These disagreements often come to bloodshed, as if they wished to dispatch messengers who could discover the answer to their dispute. Such messengers, as far as I know of mortal philosophy, never return to give their brethren the taste of truth they yearn for.

You have something that might be more use to me than either gold or power—something that in fact brings both in its train."
"And what is that?"
The count leaned forward. "Knowledge.

When you stopped to think about it, he reflected, there weren’t many things in life one truly needed. To want too much was worse than greed: it was stupidity—a waste of precious time and effort.

Never make your home in a place," the old man had said, too lazy in the spring warmth to do more than wag a finger. "Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it—memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things." Morgenes had grinned. "That way it will go with you wherever you journey. You'll never lack for a home—unless you lose your head, of course...

You can never tell when princes will get squinty on you. You can never tell when they might suddenly feel their blood and go all royal.

Perhaps he was a bumpkin; at least he was an honest bumpkin.