This is it, Egwene,” Mat said. “Take a deep breath, a last pull on the brandy, or burn your final pinch of tabac. Have a good look at the ground before you, as it’s soon going to be covered in blood. In an hour, we’ll be in the thick of it. The Light watch over us all.
There is a different beauty in simplicity, in a single line placed just so, a single flower among the rocks. The harshness of the stone makes the flower more precious. We try not to dwell too much on what is gone. The strongest heart will break under that strain.
Light, how the horror of yesterday became merely the uneasiness of today, once you grew accustomed.
The Wheel of Time weaves the Pattern of the Ages, and lives are the threads it weaves. No one can tell how the thread of his own life will be woven into the Pattern, or how the thread of a people will be woven. It gave us the Breaking of the World, and the Exile, and Stone, and the Longing, and eventually it gave us back the stedding before we all died. Sometimes I think the reason you humans are the way you are is because your threads are so short.
Not a tree of it left. I’ve been to Tear and Illian, too. Different names, and no memories. There’s only pasture for their horses where the grove was at Tear, and at Illian the grove is the King’s park, where he hunts his deer, and none allowed inside without his permission. It has all changed, Rand. I fear very much that I will find the same everywhere I go. All the groves gone, all the memories gone, all the dreams dead.
For he shall come like the breaking dawn, and shatter the world again with his coming, and make it anew.
If you watch the wolf too hard,” she muttered, “a mouse will bite you on the ankle.
Once mere excuses are allowed, inevitably lesser and lesser excuses will become acceptable, until law itself is gone.
Bars of sunlight cast through rents in the walls made motes of dust glitter where they yet hung in the air.
You know the Prophecies of the Dragon? ‘When the Wolf King carries the hammer, thus are the final days known. When the fox marries the raven, and the trumpets of battle are blown.’ I never understood that second line, myself.
Do what you must, and pay the price if you’re wrong. Sometimes if you are right, too.
I read the books, all the travelers’ accounts, and it began to burn in me that I had to see, not just read.
He now felt just that. Pity for a woman who had never known love, a woman who would not let herself know it. Pity for a woman who could not choose a side other than her own.
Once the heron to set his path; Twice the heron to name him true.
The wolves had no notions of time the way men did, no reasons to divide a day into hours. The seasons were time enough for them, and the light and the dark. No need for more.
Truth has more shadings than you might think, and distance often distorts truth into something very different from the facts.
No one is ever so far in the Shadow, that he can’t once again walk in the light.
He calls upon the mountains to kneel, and the seas to give way, and the very skies to bow. Pray that the heart of stone remembers tears, and the soul of fire, love.
A man’s dreams are a maze even he cannot know,” Bair had told her once.
I’m no lord. I’ve more respect for myself than that.