Somebody has to start. Somebody has to step forward and do what is right, because it is right.

Raoden looked up at his friend. "We're not dead, Galladon, and we're not damned. We're just unfinished.

To live is to have worries and uncertainties. Keep them inside, and they will destroy you for certain--leaving behind a person so callused that emotion can find no root in his heart.

I want you to go back into the barrack and tell the men to come out after the storm. Tell them to look up at me tied here. Tell them I’ll open my eyes and look back at them, and they’ll know hat I survived.

Hmmmm Light makes shadow. Truth makes lies. Hmmmm.

They tried boiling books, but that didn't work very well." "I'm surprised they haven't tried boiling one another." "Oh, it's been tried," Galladon said. "Fortunately. something happens to us during the Shaod—apparently the flesh of a dead man doesn't taste too good. Kolo? In fact, it's so violently bitter that no one can keep it down." "It's nice to see that cannibalism has been so logically ruled out as an option," Raoden said dryly

Everyone is either happy or dead.