But loneliness that deep gets into the marrow. Now that I’m here - among friends - I can feel it burning out of me. Little by little, step by step.

Enjoy myself? There's a worm in my brain, I'm surrounded by idiots, and all I've got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar.

You could've asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.

Go on. Give the worgs some Booze! They'll love it.

Smashing! Soon, my friend - soon we can share a flagon of something liquid and a tale of derring-do!

I want to wake up beside a handsome virgin every morning, but life doesn't give us what we want.

Tread carefully, now. Not even a god would survive sacrificing me.

Let's see. I hail from Waterdeep, the City of Splendours. I'm a wizard of considerable acclaim and scholar of exceptional accomplishment. I have a cat, a library and a weakness for a good glass of wine. And if the mood takes me I'm known to try my hand at poetry.

Findal: "Oh, thank you, thank you. I thought I was going to die down here."
Player: "Don't thank me yet. I'm here to finish what they started."

How would you feel about helping me kill some evil bastards?

Kiss my arse. I'm the Lord of Murder - I'll show you why.

Peace. Enjoy it while it lasts.

The moron who burns twice as bright, dies twice as fast.

Oh, it's not over until I teabag every last one of you alien motherfuckers.

Give man a bullet, and he'll want a gun. Give man a gun, and he'll be giving away the bullets.

My flaming fists of fury will destroy you, fiend, hahaha! God, who writes this stuff?

It ain't the size that matters, it's how you use it.

Darkness isn't the opposite of light, it is simply the absence of a flamethrower.

One day you will ask me
Which is more important?
My life or yours?
I will say mine
And you will walk away
Not knowing
That you are my life

Dust and desert, arid plain
I dream of you, I call your name
A flower blooms, the petals fall
Sandglass empties, still I call
Ten years gone, my time is done
I journey home, my battles won
There's no-one waiting, no-one there
Just echoes, and an empty chair.

The stories don't do this place justice. It is amazing! You've never seen anywhere as busy as the market in Algiers. The smells, the flavours, the colours and – oh – the noise!

Fear is what keeps us all in our places, and the fear of the flesh, the ruin of the flesh is the greatest of them all.

I am sickened, I am ruined, but I will build such machines to contain this plague and heal us all.

A skin of a shroud
a stump of the bled
old Lily is flyblown
old Lily is dead
and dreams of the jungle
will flood through her head
and light up her head.

Thrupenny sixpence sparrows and doves
See all the angels a-weeping above
there's no more forgiving, there's no-one to save
for today darling Lily goes into her grave