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Andrzej Sapkowski

Andrzej Sapkowski Quotes

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“Then the prophetess said to the witcher: "I shall give you this advice: wear boots made of iron, take in hand a staff of steel. Then walk until the end of the world. Help yourself with your staff to break the land before you and wet it with your tears. Go through fire and water, do not stop along the way, do not look behind you. And when the boots are worn, when your staff is blunt, once the wind and the heat has dried your eyes so that your tears no longer flow, then at the end of the world you may find what you are looking for and what you love... The witcher went through fire and water, he did not look back. He did not take iron boots or a staff of steel. He took only his sword. He did not listen to the words of prophets. And he did well because she was a bad prophet.”

“As I said, your view on religion is known to me, it’s never particularly bothered me and, no doubt, it won’t bother me in the future. I’m not a fanatic. You’ve a right to believe that we’re governed by Nature and the Force hidden within her. You can think that the gods, including my Melitele, are merely a personification of this power invented for simpletons so they can understand it better, accept its existence. According to you, that power is blind. But for me, Geralt, faith allows you to expect what my goddess personifies from nature: order, law, goodness. And hope.”

“Emotions, whims and lies, fascinations and games. Feelings and their absence. Gifts, which may not be accepted. Lies and truth. What is truth? The negation of lies? Or the statement of a fact? And if the fact is a lie, what then is the truth? Who is full of feelings which torment him, and who is the empty carapace of a cold skull? Who? What is truth, Geralt? What is the essence of truth?’ ‘I don’t know, Yen. Tell me.’ ‘No,’ she said and lowered her eyes. For the first time. He had never seen her do that before. Never. ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘I cannot, Geralt. I cannot tell you that. That bird, begotten from the touch of your hand, will tell you. Bird? What is the essence of truth?’ ‘Truth,’ the kestrel said, ‘is a shard of ice.”

“– В том-то и проблема, чтобы правильно рассадить гостей! Вы – гости, к тому же соратники господина виконта, стало быть, мне должно усадить вас ближе к голове стола… Промеж баронов. Но ведь не может быть, чтобы все вы, ваши милости и госпожи, оказались ровней, ибо так никогда не бывает, поскольку быть не может, чтобы все, повторяю, ровней были. Ежели кто из вас рангом либо родом выше, то должен при верхнем столе сидеть, при княгине… – Он, – ведьмак не колеблясь указал на вампира, который неподалеку в задумчивости любовался занимающим чуть ли не всю стену гобеленом, – граф. Но об этом – ша! Это тайна, покрытая мраком веков. – Понял! – Камергер чуть не захлебнулся от восторга. – В данных циркумстанциях… Я усажу его одесную графини Ноттурн и благородно урожденной тетушки госпожи, то бишь ее светлости княгини. – Не пожалеете ни вы, ни благородно урожденная тетушка. – У Геральта было совершенно каменное лицо. – Равных ему нет ни в смысле обычаев, ни в искусстве конверсации”

“Your mother gives birth to you only once and only once do you die,' the witcher said calmly. 'An appropriate philosophy for a louse, don't you agree? And your longevity? I pity you, Filavandrel.' The elf raised his eyebrows. 'Why?' 'You're pathetic, with your little stolen sacks of seeds on pack horses, with your handful of grain, that tiny crumb thanks to which you plan to survive. And with that mission of yours which is supposed to turn your thoughts from imminent annihilation. Because you know this is the end. Nothing will sprout or yield crops on the plateaux, nothing will save you now. But you live long, and you will live very long in arrogant isolation, fewer and fewer of you, growing weaker and weaker, more and more bitter. And you know what'll happen then, Filavandrel. You know that desperate young men with the eyes of hundred-year-old men and withered, barren and sick girls like Toruviel will lead those who can still hold a sword and bow in their hands, down into the valleys. You'll come down into the blossoming valleys to meet death, wanting to die honourably, in battle, and not in sick beds of misery, where anaemia, tuberculosis and scurvy will send you. Then, long-living Aen Seidhe, you'll remember me. You'll remember that I pitied you. And you'll understand that I was right.' 'Time will tell who was right,' said the elf quietly. 'And herein lies the advantage of longevity. I've got a chance of finding out, if only because of that stolen handful of grain. You won't have a chance like that. You'll die shortly.”

“- Toi et ta grande cause... (Ignorant le troubadour, le sorceleur avança en titubant.) Ta grande cause, Filippa, et ton choix, c'est un blessé, poignardé de sang-froid, quand il a eu fini d'avouer ce que tu voulais savoir et qu'il m'était interdit de connaître. Ta grande cause, ce sont tous ces cadavres qui n'auraient pas dû être... Pardon, je me suis mal exprimé... Ce ne sont pas des cadavres... mais des causes de moindre importance ! - Je savais que tu ne comprendrais pas. - Non, en effet. Et je ne le comprendrai jamais. Mais je sais ce qu'il en est. Vos grandes affaires, vos guerres, votre combat pour sauver le monde... Votre fin qui justifie vos moyens... Tends l'oreille, Filippa. Tu entends ces voix, ces cris ? Ce sont de gros chats qui luttent pour une grande cause. Un règne absolu sur un tas d'ordures. Ce n'est pas rien, là-bas, on fait couler du sang et on s'étripe. Là-bas, c'est la guerre. Mais ces deux guerres, celle des chats et la tienne, m'importent incroyablement peu !”

“The blade, freed by the half-turn, floated after him, shining, drawing a fan of red droplets in its wake. The streaming raven-black hair floated in the air, floated, floated, floated... The head fell onto the gravel. There are fewer and fewer monsters? And I? What am I? Who's shouting? The birds? The woman in a sheepskin jacket and blue dress? The roses from Nazair? How quiet! How empty. What emptiness. Within me.”

“I visited towns and fortresses. I looked for proclamations nailed to posts at the crossroads. I looked for the words ‘Witcher urgently needed.’ And then there’d be a sacred site, a dungeon, necropolis or ruins, forest ravine or grotto hidden in the mountains, full of bones and stinking carcasses. Some creature which lived to kill, out of hunger, for pleasure, or invoked by some sick will. A manticore, wyvern, fogler, aeschna, ilyocoris, chimera, leshy, vampire, ghoul, graveir, werewolf, giant scorpion, striga, black annis, kikimora, vypper… so many I’ve killed. There’d be a dance in the dark and a slash of the sword, and fear and distaste in the eyes of my employer afterward.”

“Then why are your eyes full of fear, Geralt of Rivia? Your hands are trembling, you are pale. Why? Do you fear the last–fourteenth–name engraved on the obelisk so much? If you wish I shall speak that name.’ ‘You don’t have to. I know what it is. The circle is closing, the snake is sinking its teeth into its own tail. That is how it must be. You and that name. And the flowers. For her and for me. The fourteenth name engraved in the stone, a name that I have spoken in the middle of the night and in the sunlight, during frosts and heat waves and rain. No, I’m not afraid to speak it now.’ ‘Then speak it.’ ‘Yennefer… Yennefer of Vengerberg.”

“İnsanlar, canavar ve canavar hikayeleri uydurmayı severler. Bunu yaptıkları zaman kendi canavarlıklarını görmezler. İçkinin dibine vurduklarında, sahtekarlık, hırsızlık yaptıklarında, karılarını kayışla dövdüklerinde, yaşlı büyükannelerini aç bıraktıklarında, tuzağa düşmüş bir tilkiyi gübre yabasıyla delik deşik ettiklerinde ya da dünyada yaşayan son tekboynuzu ok yağmuruna tuttuklarında gün ağrırken kulübelerin arasında dolanan Bane'in onlardan daha kötü biri olduğunu düşünmek işlerine gelir. Böylece yüreklerine su serpilir. Yani yaşamak kolaylaşır.”

“You can't stop a soldier from being frightened but you can give him motivation to help him overcome that fear. I have no such motivation. I can't have. I'm a witcher: an artificially created mutant. I kill monsters for money. I defend children when their parents pay me to. If Nilfgaardian parents pay me, I'll defend Nilfgaardian children. And even if the world lies in ruin - which does not seem likely to me - I'll carry on killing monsters in the ruins of this world until some monster kills me. That is my fate, my reason, my life and my attitude to the world. And it is not what I chose. It was chosen for me.”

“For him the points of the compass have no great importance. It's all the same to him which one he chooses, as long as he's not idle. That is truly a witcher's principium. The world is full of evil, so it's sufficient to stride ahead, and destroy the Evil encountered on the way, in that way rendering a service to Good. The rest takes care of itself. Being in motion is everything, the goal is nothing.”

“I should,’ she moaned again, ‘be grateful that you don't try to take advantage of the situation. But this is not the case. I am ashamed of that too. I hate your silence and your eyes dilated with fear. I hate you… for your silence, your sincerity, your… Her too, I hate her, the sorceress; I would gladly settle things with her using my knife… I hate her. Order me to leave, Geralt, because I can't bring myself to do that on my own, and yet that is what I want: to leave, go to the town, go to the hostel. I want revenge on you for the shame I feel, my humiliation… I'll take the first opportunity…”