One pretty woman means fun at the dance. Two pretty women means trouble in the house. Three pretty women means run at the hills.
Anyone who claimed that old age had brought them patience was either lying or senile.
As the Wheel of Time turns, places wear many names. Men wear many names, many faces. Different faces, but always the same man. Yet no one knows the Great Pattern the Wheel weaves, or even the Pattern of an Age. We can only watch, and study, and hope.
You could weave silk from pig bristles before you could make a man anything but a man.
A man without trust is a man without life.
If a woman does need a hero, she needs him today, not tomorrow.
I think that quite often you can only find a choice between bad and worse. But I think it’s worth making the effort, and I like to expose my characters to that sort of situation.
I’m not certain that I draw from any one culture more than others. Many myths and legends of many different cultures are really the same story when you get to the heart of it. They are often cultural cautionary tales about how we should behave and how we should live.
You have to have talent to some extent – I certainly hope I have talent – but you have to have luck as well. Once you get that first shot, that will get you noticed for the rest of your books and that will give the rest of your books a better chance.
Teach him how you will, a pig will never play the flute.
Even fools say something worthwhile now and again. Even a blind pig finds an acorn sometimes.
It was easier to be brave when someone needed your protection.
Sleep well and wake, Rand al’Thor.
You must surrender before you can guide.
Tonight you will eat fish. Tomorrow, you may die.
For the young, death is an enemy they wish to try their strength against. For those of us a little older, she is an old friend, an old lover, but one we are not eager to meet again soon.
A man’s dreams are a maze even he cannot know.
A Myrddraal has less cunning than a woman, and a Trolloc fights with more honor. And a goat has more sense.
Better ten days of love than years of regretting.
Men always seem to refuse to admit they are sick until they’re sick enough to make twice as much work for women. Then they claim they’re well too soon, with the same result.