Witcher Quotes

Duny," said Geralt seriously, "Calanthe, Pavetta. And you, righteous knight Tuirseach, future king of Cintra. In order to become a witcher, you have to be born in the shadow of destiny, and very few are born like that. That's why there are so few of us. We're growing old, dying, without anyone to pass our knowledge, our gifts, on to. We lack successors. And this world is full of Evil which waits for the day none of us are left." "Geralt," whispered Calanthe. "Yes, you're not wrong, queen. Duny! You will give me that which you already have but do not know. I'll return to Cintra in six years to see if destiny has been kind to me. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

There was someone in his little attic room. Geralt knew it before he even reached the door, sensing it through the barely perceptible vibration of his medallion. He blew out the oil lamp which had lit his path up the stairs, pulled the dagger from his boot, slipped it into the back of his belt and pressed the door handle. The room was dark. But not for a witcher. He was deliberately slow in crossing the threshold; he closed the door behind him carefully. The next second he dived at the person sitting on his bed, crushed them into the linen, forced his forearm under their chin and reached for his dagger. He didn't pull it out. Something wasn't right. "Not a bad start," she said in a muffled voice, lying motionless beneath him. "I expected something like this, but I didn't think we'd both be in bed so quickly. Take your hand from my throat please." "It's ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Madam Yennefer, Forgive me. I'm riding to Hirundum because I want to see Geralt. I want to see him before I start school. Forgive my disobedience, but I must. I know you'll punish me, but I don't want to regret my indecision and hesitation. If I'm to have regrets, let them be for deeds and actions. I'm an enchantress. I seize life by the scruff of the neck. I'll return when I can. - Ciri ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Only death can finish the fight, everything else only interrupts the fighting. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Caldemeyn waddled on the spot and looked at Geralt. The witcher shrugged. Carrypebble picked his nose with serious concentration. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

The bounty hunter looked at him long and hard. Until Tawny Owl's smirk finally vanished. 'Indeed,' he said. 'Everyone has to make a living. Some earn money doing what they've learned. Others do what they have to. But not many craftsmen have been as lucky in life as I am: they pay me for a trade I truly and honestly enjoy. Not even whores can say that. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

I shall tell you. I've heard that it has recently become tiresome to negotiate with you witchers. The thing is that, whenever a witcher is shown a monster to be killed, the witcher, rather than take his sword and slaughter it, begins to ponder whether it is right, whether it is transgressing the limits of what is possible, whether it is not contrary to the code and whether the monster really is a monster, as though it wasn't clear at first glance. It seems to me that you are simply doing too well. In my day, witchers didn't have two pennies to rub together ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Dear friend…'

The Witcher swore quietly, looking at the sharp, angular, even runes drawn with energetic sweeps of the pen, faultlessly reflecting the author's mood. He felt once again the desire to try to bite his own backside in fury. When he was writing to the sorceress a month ago he had spent two nights in a row contemplating how best to begin. Finally, he had decided on "Dear friend." Now he had his just deserts.

'Dear friend, your unexpected letter – which I received not quite three years after we last saw each other – has given me much joy. My joy is all the greater as various rumours have been circulating about your sudden and violent death. It is a good thing that you have decided to disclaim them by writing to me; it is a good thing, too, that you are doing so so soon. From your letter it appears that you have lived a peaceful, wonderfully boring life, devoid of all sensation. These days such a life is a real privilege, dear friend, and I am happy that you have managed to achieve it.

I was touched by the sudden concern which you deigned to show as to my health, dear friend. I hasten with the news that, yes, I now feel well; the period of indisposition is behind me, I have dealt with the difficulties, the description of which I shall not bore you with. It worries and troubles me very much that the unexpected present you received from Fate brings you worries. Your supposition that this requires professional help is absolutely correct. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Everywhere you are a stranger.' Finished Iskra with seeming carelessness, and quickly and unceremoniously placed a beret with turkey feathers on her head. 'An Outsider everywhere and always different. How shall we call you, little hawk?' Ciri looked into her eyes. 'Gvalch'ca.' The elf laughed. 'Once you start to speak, you speak in multiple languages, little hawk! Very good. You will carry the name from the Elder People, a name that you yourself have chosen. You will be called Falka. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

You won't do it.' Bonhart's voice resounded in the complete silence. 'You won't do it, witcher girl. In Kaer Morhen you were taught how to kill, so you kill like a machine. Instinctively. To kill yourself you need character, strength, determination and courage. And they couldn't teach you that. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

...Maybe one day it will be that you
will need help ...Then call, call into the night. And I'll come."
-Geralt of Rivia ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Elves are extremely long-lived -- the passing years are but a blink of an eye to them. What also sets them apart from us is the very narrow window during which they can procreate, and, as a natural consequence, their very low fertility. The Aen Seidhe believe this to be the main reason for their decline. As one of my elven friends put it, "Even though we fought like wolves, we lost to a race which fucks like rabbits. ~ David Hodgson

Witcher,' Three Jackdaws suddenly said, 'I want to ask you a question.'
'Ask it.'
'Why don't you turn back?'
The Witcher looked at him in silence for a moment. 'Do you really want to know?'
'Yes, I do,' Three Jackdaws said, turning his face towards Geralt.
'I'm riding with them because I'm a servile golem. Because I'm a wisp of oakum blown by the wind along the highway. Tell me, where should I go? And for what? At least here some people have gathered with whom I have something to talk about. People who don't break off their conversations when I approach. People who, though they may not like me, say it to my face, and don't throw stones from behind a fence. I'm riding with them for the same reason I rode with you to the log drivers' inn. Because it's all the same to me. I don't have a goal to head towards. I don't have a destination at the end of the road.'
Three Jackdaws cleared his throat. 'There's a destination at the end of every road. Everybody has one. Even you, although you like to think you're somehow different.'
'Now I'll ask you a question.'
'Ask it.'
'Do you have a destination at the end of the road?'
'I do.'
'Lucky for you.'
'It is not a matter of luck, Geralt. It is a matter of what you believe in and what you serve. No one ought to know that better than… than a witcher.'
'I keep hearing about goals today,' Geralt sighed. 'Niedamir's aim is to seize Malleore. Eyck of Denesle's calling is t ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Night and day the streets resounded with music, song, and the clinking of chalices and tankards, for it is well known that nothing is such thirsty work as the acquisition of knowledge. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

How do you find cohabiting with neighbors from whom, after all, you do differ somewhat?"
"I manage." The witcher looked him straight in the eyes, "I manage because I have to. Because I've no other way out. Because I've overcome the vanity and pride of being different. I've understood that they are a pitiful defense against being different. Because I've understood that the sun shines differently when something changes, but I'm not the axis of those changes. The sun shines differently, but it will continue to shine, and jumping at it with a hoe isn't going to do anything. We've got to accept facts, elf. That's what we've got to learn. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

For I must tell you, gentle reader, that Geralt the Witcher was always a modest, prudent and composed man, with a soul as simple and uncomplicated as the shaft of a halberd. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

During his life, the witcher had met thieves who looked like town councilors, councilors who looked like beggars, harlots who looked like princesses, princesses who looked like calving cows and kings who looked like thieves. But Stregobor always looked as, according to every rule and notion, a wizard should look. He was tall, thin and stooping, with enormous bushy gray eyebrows and a long, crooked nose. To top it off, he wore a black, trailing robe with improbably wide sleeves, and wielded a long staff capped with a crystal knob. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

I believe in the sword. As you can see, I carry two. Every witcher does. It's said, spitefully, the silver one is for monsters and the iron for humans. But that's wrong. As there are monsters which can be struck down only with a silver blade, so there are those for whom iron is lethal. And lola, not just any iron, it must come from a meteorite ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

If the world is to be saved like that-' the Witcher lifted his head '-it would be better for it to perish ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Everyone has some kind of debt. Such is life. Debts and liabilities, obligations, gratitude, payments, doing something for someone. Or perhaps for ourselves? For in fact we are always paying ourselves back and not someone else. Each time we are indebted we pay off the debt to ourselves. In each of us lies a creditor and a debtor at once and the art is for the reckoning to tally inside us. We enter the world as a minute part of the life we are given, and from then on we are ever paying off debts, To ourselves. For ourselves. In order for the final reckoning to tally. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Evil is evil, Stregobor," said the witcher seriously as he got up. "Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I'm not a pious hermit. I haven't done only good in my life. But if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all. Time for me to go. We'll see each other tomorrow. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Dandelion, staring into the dying embers, sat much longer, alone, quietly strumming his lute. It began with a few bars, from which an elegant, soothing melody emerged. The lyric suited the melody, and came into being simultaneously with it, the words bending into the music, becoming set in it like insects in translucent, golden lumps of amber.
The ballad told of a certain witcher and a certain poet. About how the witcher and the poet met on the seashore, among the crying of seagulls, and how they fell in love at first sight. About how beautiful and powerful was their love. About how nothing - not even death - was able to destroy that love and part them.
Dandelion knew that few would believe the story told by the ballad, but he was not concerned. He knew ballads were not written to be believed, but to move their audience.
Several years later, Dandelion could have changed the contents of the ballad and written about what had really occurred. He did not. For the true story would not have move anyone. Who would have wanted to hear that the Witcher and Little Eye parted and never, ever, saw each other again? About how four years later Little Eye died of the smallpox during an epidemic raging in Vizima? About how he, Dandelion, had carried her out in his arms between corpses being cremated on funeral pyres and buried her far from the city, in the forest, alone and peaceful, and, as she had asked, buried two things with her: her lute and her sky blue pearl. The pearl ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

I thought I was choosing the lesser evil. I chose the lesser evil. Lesser evil! I'm Geralt! Witcher ... I'm the Butcher of Blaviken - ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Incredible, Geralt. After so many years? How's it possible?'
'There's a grain of truth in every fairy tale,' said the Witcher quietly. 'Love and blood. They both possess a mighty power. Wizards and learned men have been racking their brains over this for years, but they haven't arrived at anything except that - '
'That what, Geralt?'
'It has to be true love. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Whosoever sheds man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. Genesis, 9:6 Verily, great self-righteousness and great blindness are needed to call the gore pouring from the scaffold justice. Vysogota of Corvo CHAPTER FIVE 'What seeks the Witcher on my territory? ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Nonsense," said the witcher. "And what's more, it doesn't rhyme. All decent predictions rhyme. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

It's an invention, a fairy tale devoid of any sense, like all the legends in which good spirits and fortune tellers fulfill wishes. Stories like that are made up by poor simpletons, who can't even dream of fulfilling their wishes and desires themselves. I'm pleased you're not one of them, Geralt of Rivia. It makes you closer in spirit to me. If I want something, I don't dream of it - I act. And I always get what I want. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

After all,' added Sheala, pouting her lips, 'it's befallen all of us at some time. Each of us, sitting here, has been cheated, taken advantage of, and made a laughing stock of by some man, at some time. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

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. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Shut up, you brat," interrupted Geralt, smiling nastily "Halt your uncontrolled little tongue. You speak to a lady who deserves respect, especially from a Knight of the White Rose ... ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

The witcher smiled faintly but quite nastily. "If I understand correctly," he said, "I'm to fight the duel because, if I refuse, I'll be hanged. If I fight, I'm to allow my opponent to injure me because if I wound him, I'll be put to the rack. What charming alternatives. Maybe I should save you the bother? I'll thump my head against the pine tree and render myself helpless. Will that grant you satisfaction?" "Don't ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Dandelion spoke first; elaborately, fluently, colourfully and volubly, embellishing his tale with ornaments so beautiful and fanciful they almost obscured the fibs and confabulations. Then the Witcher spoke. He spoke the same truth, and spoke so dryly, boringly and flatly that Dandelion couldn't bare it and kept butting in, for which the dwarves reprimanded him.
And then the story was over and a lengthy silence fell.
'To the archer Milva!' Zoltan Chivay cleared his throat, saluting with his cup. 'To the Nilfgaardian. To Regis the herbalist who entertained the travellers in his cottage with moonshine and mandrake. And to Angoulême, whom I never knew. May the earth lie lightly on them all. May they have in the beyond plenty of whatever they were short of on earth. And may their names live forever in songs and tales. Let's drink to them. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Forgive me,' he said a moment later. 'You're right. I put you at risk. It was too dangerous a task for a - ' 'For a woman, you mean?' she said, jerking her head back, flicking her still wet hair from her shoulder with a sudden movement. 'Is that what you were going to say? Are you playing the gentleman all of a sudden? I may have to squat to piss, but my coat is lined with wolf skin, not coney fur! Don't call me a coward, because you don't know me! ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Geralt . . . Listen to me - ' 'Listen to what?' shouted the Witcher, before his voice suddenly faltered. 'I can't leave - I can't just leave her to her fate. She's completely alone . . . She cannot be left alone, Dandelion. You'll never understand that. No one will ever understand that, but I know. If she remains alone, the same thing will happen to her as once happened to me . . . You'll never understand that . . ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

The person who discovered my modest abilities was, of course, a sorcerer,
whom I met by accident,' continued Vilgefortz calmly. 'He offered me a tremen-
dous gift: the chance of an education and of self-improvement, with a view to join-
ing the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.'
'And you,' said the Witcher softly, 'accepted the offer.'
'No,' said Vilgefortz, his voice becoming increasingly cold and unpleasant. 'I re-
jected it in a rude – even boorish – way. I unloaded all my anger on the old fool. I
wanted him to feel guilty; he and his entire magical fraternity. Guilty, naturally, for
the gutter in Lan Exeter; guilty that one or two detestable conjurers – bastards with-
out hearts or human feelings – had thrown me into that gutter at birth, and not be-
fore, when I wouldn't have survived. The sorcerer, it goes without saying, didn't
understand; wasn't concerned by what I told him. He shrugged and went on his
way, by doing so branding himself and his fellows with the stigma of insensitive,
arrogant, whoresons, worthy of the greatest contempt. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Sir Falwick," said Geralt, not ceasing to smile. "If he draws his sword, I'll take it from him and beat the snotty-nosed little brat's arse with the flat of his blade. And then I'll batter the door down with him. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski