Eldest Quotes

“bedroom and up the side of the compound to the study. Satisfied? he asked when she arrived. Saphira raked him with her sapphire eyes, then proceeded to scrutinize the walls and furniture.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“claws”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“with him. As Eragon closed the screen to the bedroom, he saw something in the corner that he had missed during his first inspection: a spiral staircase that wound up a dark wood chimney. Thrusting the lantern before him, he cautiously ascended, one”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“With her mind, Arya tells Eragon that she has been ferrying Saphira’s egg between the elves and the Varden, in the hopes that it might hatch for one of their children. However, during her last trip, she was ambushed by Durza and forced to send the egg elsewhere with magic, which is how it came to Eragon. Now Arya is seriously wounded and requires the Varden’s medical help. Using mental images, she shows Eragon how to find the rebels. An epic chase ensues. Eragon and his friends traverse almost four hundred miles in eight days. They are pursued by a contingent of Urgals, who trap them in the towering Beor Mountains. Murtagh, who had not wanted to go to the Varden, is forced to tell Eragon that he is the son of Morzan.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Brom finally reveals that he is an agent of the Varden—a rebel group dedicated to overthrowing Galbatorix—and that he had been hiding in Eragon’s village, waiting for a new Dragon Rider to appear. Brom also explains that twenty years ago, he and Jeod stole Saphira’s egg from Galbatorix. In the process, Brom killed Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn. Only two other dragon eggs still exist, both of which remain in Galbatorix’s possession.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“that he had begun to long for clearings, fields, or even a mountain, instead of the endless tree trunks and meager underbrush. His flights with Saphira provided no respite as they only revealed hills of prickly green that rolled unbroken into the distance like a verdant sea. Oftentimes, the branches were so thick overhead, it was impossible to tell from what direction the sun rose and set. That, combined with the repetitive scenery, made Eragon hopelessly lost, no matter how many times Arya or Lifaen troubled to show him the points of the compass. If not for the elves, he knew that he could wander in Du Weldenvarden for the rest of his life without ever finding his way free. When it rained, the clouds and the forest canopy plunged them into profound darkness, as if they were entombed deep underground. The falling water would”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“better. Instead, he said, Galbatorix still has two dragon eggs. During our first audience with Hrothgar, you mentioned that you would like to rescue them. If we can— Saphira snorted bitterly. It could take years, and even if we did retrieve the eggs, I have no guarantee that they would hatch, nor that they would be male, nor that we would be fit mates. Fate has abandoned my race to extinction. She lashed her tail with frustration, breaking a sapling in two. She seemed perilously close to tears. What can I say? he asked, disturbed by her distress. You can’t give up hope. You still have a chance to find a mate, but you have to be patient. Even if Galbatorix’s eggs don’t work, dragons must exist elsewhere in the world, just like humans, elves, and Urgals do. The moment we are free of our obligations, I’ll help you search for them. All right? All right, she sniffed. She craned back her head and released a puff of white smoke that dispersed among the branches overhead. I should know better than to let my emotions get the best of me. Nonsense. You would have to be made of stone not to feel this way. It’s perfectly normal.… But promise you won’t dwell on it while you’re alone.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Gánga fram to go forward, blöthr to stop, hlaupa if needs you must run, and gánga aptr to go back. You can give more precise instructions if you know more of the ancient language.” He led Eragon to a horse and said, “This is Folkvír. Hold out your hand.” Eragon did, and the stallion snorted, flaring his nostrils. Folkvír sniffed Eragon’s palm, then touched it with his muzzle and allowed Eragon to stroke his thick neck. “Good,” said Narí, appearing satisfied. The elf had Orik do the same with the next horse. As Eragon mounted Folkvír, Saphira drew closer. He looked up at her, noting how troubled she still seemed from the night. One more day, he said. Eragon … She paused. I thought of something while I was under the influence of the elves’ spell, something that I have always considered of little consequence, but now looms within me like a mountain of black dread: Every creature, no matter how pure or monstrous, has a mate of their own kind. Yet I have none. She shuddered and closed her eyes. In this regard, I am alone. Her statements reminded Eragon that she was barely more than eight months old. On most occasions, her youth did not show—due to the influence of her hereditary instincts and memories—but, in this arena, she was even more inexperienced than he was with his feeble stabs at romance in Carvahall and Tronjheim. Pity”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Sílthrim”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“dangerous”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Saphira,”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“upstream”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“dragon”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“killed”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“experience”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“between them. “We know that it’s possible to retrieve information from the future—fortunetellers can often sense the paths a person’s life may take—but we’ve been unable to refine the process to the point where you can choose what, where, or when you want to see.” Eragon found the entire concept of funneling knowledge through time profoundly disturbing. It raised too many questions about the nature of reality. Whether fate and destiny really exist, the only thing I can do is enjoy the present and live as honorably as possible. Yet he could not help asking, “What’s to stop me, though, from scrying one of my memories? I’ve seen everything in them … so I should be able to view them with magic.” Arya’s”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“concept”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“In Teirm, the eccentric herbalist Angela tells Eragon’s fortune, predicting mighty powers struggling to control his destiny; an epic romance with one of noble birth; the fact that he will one day leave Alagaësia, never to return; and a betrayal from within his family. Her companion, the werecat Solembum, also gives him some words of advice. Then Eragon, Brom, and Saphira depart for Dras-Leona, where they hope to find the Ra’zac.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Rhunön went up to Saphira’s shoulder and tapped a scale with one of her blunt fingernails, twisting her head from side to side in an attempt to peer into the translucent pebble. “Good color. Not like those brown dragons, all muddy and dark.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“He scrambled to his feet, noticing that her own were bare.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“asleep?”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“fire,”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“air,”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“earth,”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Before them were soups and stews filled with various tubers, roasted venison, long hot loaves of sourdough bread, and rows of honeycakes dripped with raspberry preserve. In a bed of greens lay filleted trout garnished with parsley, and on the side, pickled eel stared forlornly at an urn of cheese, as if hoping to somehow escape back into a river. A swan sat on each table, surrounded by a flock of stuffed partridges, geese, and ducks. Mushrooms were everywhere: broiled in juicy strips, placed atop a bird’s head like a bonnet, or carved in the shape of castles amid moats of gravy. An incredible variety was on display, from puffy white mushrooms the size of Eragon’s fist, to ones he could have mistaken for gnarled bark, to delicate toadstools sliced neatly in half to showcase their blue flesh. Then the centerpiece of the feast was revealed: a gigantic roasted boar, glistening with sauce. At least Eragon thought it was a boar, for the carcass was as large as Snowfire and took six dwarves to carry. The tusks were longer than his forearms, the snout as wide as his head. And the smell, it overwhelmed all others in pungent waves that made his eyes water from their strength.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Only thing is, a soldier threw a pitcher and hit him on the temple. Killed him instantly.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“And Arya! He cringed,”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“Especially when you’re around to cuckold the husband.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“spirit”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest

“grave”
― Christopher Paolini, Eldest