“It was one of those perfect autumn days so common in stories and so rare in the real world.”
Source: The Name of the Wind (2007), Chapter 2, “A Beautiful Day” (p. 19)
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Patrick Rothfuss 236
American fantasy writer 1973Related quotes
“It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world, and moral courage so rare.”
Mark Twain in Eruption: Hitherto Unpublished Pages About Men and Events (1940) edited by Bernard DeVoto
“Perfect health, like perfect beauty, is a rare thing; and so, it seems, is perfect disease.”
Infertility Counseling: A Comprehensive Handbook for Clinicians - Page 179 by Linda Hammer Burns, Sharon N. Covington - Medical - 2000.
Collected Works
Life Circulars (20 July 1957), p. 77.
General sources
Context: Being the Avatar, I have come to awaken mankind, and would like the entire world to come to me. Real saints are dearest and nearest to my heart. Perfect Ones and lovers of God adorn the world, and will ever do so. The physical presence of the Perfect Masters throughout eternity is not necessarily confined to any particular or special part of the globe. My salutations to all — the past, present and future Perfect Masters, real saints — known and unknown — lovers of God, and to all other beings, in all of whom I reside, whether consciously felt by them or not.
“So maybe it wasn't the fairy tale. But those stories weren't real anyway. Mine were.”
Source: Along for the Ride
“So many lovely things, so rare, so young,
A day begat them, and a day will end.”
Tot species, tantosque ortus variosque novatus<br/>una dies aperit, conficit ipsa dies.
Tot species, tantosque ortus variosque novatus
una dies aperit, conficit ipsa dies.
"De Rosis Nascentibus", line 39; translation from Helen Waddell Mediaeval Latin Lyrics ([1929] 1943) p. 29.
This poem used to be misattributed to Virgil, but is now usually ascribed to Ausonius.
“And what is so rare as a day in June?”
Prelude to Pt. I, st. 5
The Vision of Sir Launfal (1848)
Context: And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays:
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;
Every clod feels a stir of might,
An instinct within it that reaches and towers,
And, grasping blindly above it for light,
Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.
