Összes idézet

Lea: We don't even know if he's really guilty, and we already plan his murder!
Heroine: Sooo… this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship?
Lea: No.

(After the main character fainted)
Alwenn: What happened to her?
Argandea: Tragic backstory reveal.

(Miközben démonokkal harcolnak)
Argandea: Az enyém a vörös.
Alwenn: Az összes vörös.
Argandea: Tudom.

Atrus (a játékban nem megjelent, hivatalos extraként megjelent részlet a karakter személyes feljegyzéseiből): I am not able to understand, only to understand more. The picture that I wish to examine is not static, it is growing and living. Even as I understand how the hinges of a door allow me to open it, I find that it leads to a room even larger than the first. But I think perhaps that is part of wisdom. Knowing that I cannot know all, understanding that I cannot understand all. If the Maker's creation was understandable would I not find the Maker something less than great, would I not consider myself equal with the Maker? It is a tribute then to His greatness when I find myself more confused even at the very instant that I have gained insight.

Yeesha (teaching the player the saving mechanism): Go ahead and take a picture! Just… make sure your thumb is not in the shot. Dad always ruins his images that way.

Atrus (utolsó mondatok, good ending): Now I understand… endings and beginnings are within the Fissure, that Riven-cleft of stars that acts as both wall and a bridge. And though I am unable to understand how, the very flow of stars that brought my Myst book into worthy hands, I am sure, served as a safe passage home for my friend. The Age of Riven is closed forever, but the people of Riven are free. And now, I am at rest, understanding that in Books, and Ages, and life… the ending can never truly be written.

Atrus (a játék kezdő, és az Atrus könyvének záró sorai): I realized, the moment I fell into the fissure, that the Book would not be destroyed as I had planned. It continued falling into that starry expanse, of which I had only a fleeting glimpse. I have tried to speculate where it might have landed—I must admit, however, such conjecture is futile. Still, the question of whose hands might one day hold my Myst Book are unsettling to me. I know my apprehensions might never be allayed, and so I close, realizing that perhaps the ending has not yet been written.

Atrus: It's as if a door inside me has closed, despite everything I've done to keep it open.

Yeesha: It is the whispers and murmurs that reveal the truth.