Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Robert Jordan

Quote by Robert Jordan

“I will never shame you. I will hate the man you choose because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile. No woman deserves the sure knowledge of widow's black as her bridepiece, you least of all.”

Quote by Robert Jordan

Author

Robert Jordan
Robert Jordan

Robert Jordan was an American author best known for his epic fantasy novel series, 'The Wheel of Time'. His works are celebrated for their complex characters, richly developed worlds, and profound philosophical themes. more

You May Also Like

“Feelings can’t always be mutual. Love tends to fizzle out over time. And even though everyone knows that, it doesn’t stop anyone from falling in love. I guess it’s the same with life. We all know it has to end someday, but even so, we act as if we’re going to live forever.”

“February Freeze (Sonnet) There is a difference between error and evil, there is a difference between mistake and malice. People who abandon you at your slightest mistake are not your people, don't turn cold and bitter - don't turn into the thing that hurt you, everybody must choose their own joy and truth. Only apes and robots chase after perfection, humans cherish imperfection as a sign of life; those who build castles in the air are too full of themselves to see, that perfection is a lie. Everyone can love you when you have everything, but one who loves you when you have nothing that’s the person who truly cares for you. Anybody can admire you when you're strong, but bonding happens through vulnerability - commitment is proven not through perfection, but in affection through imperfection.”

“Bonfire of Broken Hearts by Stewart Stafford A shivering man craving warmth, Mustn't let the fire consume him, Despite temptation heat flares, In arousal-seared microseconds. Lured in with passion's promise, A stray spark or lick of flame is all Love ignites into walking fireball— Devotion's immolation sacrifice. On a cracked cardiac bonfire, Toughened muscles take time to burn, An atrophied, coarse chest slump, Once burned it is charcoal brittle. In the hall of mirrors' reflection, ICU, but do you see any of me? No salve - a scorched psyche set free. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“I think the heart is like a guitar string. The times when things get really rough and you don't know what to do... ...it feels like a string inside your chest is being wound tighter and tighter. When it's stretched to its limit like that, it hurts when it's struck. Sometimes it breaks. And you think there's no way it'll ever be fixed. But then... ...if someone comes along and brings you a new string... ...wouldn't that help heal the damage... ...at least a little?”

“I’ll make you swallow a firing sea.”

“He kneels beside her, does the things we instinctively do: lowers an ear to her lips; checks her wrist for a pulse. But it only confirms what he already knows. He brings her still-warm hand to his cheek and weeps. Because they have not had long enough. Because he is not ready for their shared life to be at it's end. He sits with her as the light fades, as the chill starts to creep in through the open door, as her cooling body sets in place. He sits with her through the night, not ready to move on to the next phase he knows must come. One of phone calls and condolences. And her absence. For now, for just a little while longer, it will be just the two of them.”