In the Borderlands, sheepherder, if a man has the raising of a child, that child is his, and none can say different.
Tuon's eyes snapped open, and despite the dim light, she focused directly on Mat. She saw the knife in his hand, ready to throw. Then she looked over her shoulder.
Well, I can admire stubbornness in a man. There is little to a man who's too easily biddable.
If you wish, you may call me Rand Sedai.
The people seemed nearly ostentatious about minding their own business.
Moiraine: It seems Ryne was wrong as well as a Darkfriend. You were better than he. Lan: He was better. But he thought I was finished, with only one arm. He never understood. You surrender after you're dead.
If you have a sword, and the Aielman has his bare hands, it is an even fight. If you're good.
If the world is ending, a woman will want to fix her hair. If the world's ending, a woman will take the time to tell a man something he's done wrong.
I grew up around strong women; weak men were pickled and salted. The women wouldn't waste time raising a weak boy.
The Golden Crane flies for Tarmon Gai'don!
Sometimes six and six make a dozen, and sometimes they make a mess
Violence harms the one who does it as much as the one who receives it. You could cut down a tree with an axe. The axe does violence to the tree, and escapes unharmed. Is that how you see it? Wood is soft compared to steel, but the sharp steel is dulled as it chops, and the sap of the tree will rust and pit it. The mighty axe does violence to the helpless tree, and is harmed by it. So it is with men, though the harm is in the spirit.
If wishes had wings, sheep would fly.
It has been quite a weight, hasn't it?" Tam asked. "What weight?" Rand replied. "That lost hand you've been carrying." Rand looked down at his stump. "Yes. I believe it has been at that.
Maybe there would be a Tinker city someday, too. They would buy up all of the colored dye, and everyone else in the world would ave to wear brown.' -Mat
No. Please do not name either child after me, Elayne. Let them live their own lives. My shadow will be long enough as it is.' -Rand
That man,' Elayne said, 'is never where he needs to be.' 'And yet,' Perrin said, 'he always arrives there eventually.
The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, Perrin. We've become what we needed to become."- Rand Al'Thor
And his paths shall be many, and who shall know his name, for he shall be beorn among us many times, in many guises, as he has been and ever will be, time without end. His coming shall be like the sharp edge of the plow, turning our lives in furrows form out of the places where we lie in our silence. The breaker of binds; the forger of chains. The maker of futures; the unshaper of destiny. -from Commentaries on the Prophecies of the Dragon, by Jurith Dorine, Right Hand to the Queen of Almoren, 742 AB, the Third Age
A young wolfhound must meet his first wolf someday, but if the wolf sees him as a puppy, if he acts the puppy, the wolf will surely kill him. The wolfhound must be a wolfhound in the wolf's eyes even more than in his own, if he is to survive.
There were many good years. Good decades, good centuries. We believed we were living in paradise. Perhaps that was our downfall. We wanted our lives to be perfect, so we ignored imperfections. Problems were magnified through inattention and war might have become inevitable if the Bore hadn't ever made.
Perrin, my father says a general can take care of the living or weep for the dead, but he cannot do both.
If you ask the lion to protect from from wolves, you have only chosen to end in one belly instead of another.
Browns seek knowledge, Blues meddle in causes, and Whites consider the questions of truth with implacable logic. We all do some of it all, of course. But to be Green means to stand ready. In the Trolloc Wars, we were often called the Battle Ajah. All Aes Sedai helped where and when they could, but the Green Ajah alone was always with the armies, in almost every battle. We were the counter to the dreadlords. The Battle Ajah. And now we stand ready, for the Trollocs to come south again, for Tarmon Gai'don. the Last Battle. We will be there. That is what it means to be Green. -Alanna
From the time an Aiel boy becomes a man he will not sing anything but battle chants, or their dirge for the slain. I have heard them singing over their dead, and over those they have killed. That song is one to make the stones weep.
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