I have an unconscious burglar living in my mind: If I read something, it's mine. I can read Middle English stories, Geoffrey Chaucer or Sir Thomas Malory, but once I start moving in the direction of contemporary fantasy, my mind begins to take over.

Women are almost always angry with men for one reason or another. It's one of things you'll have to get used to, as you get older.

Whatever happened to him?" Silk asked. "He went swimming in the Nedrane." "I didn't know that Thulls swam all that well." "They don't–particularly not with large rocks tied to their feet.

Isn't it easier to forgive than to hate? Until we learn how to forgive, that sort of thing is going to keep on happening." He pointed at the tall pillars of smoke rising to the north. "Hate is a sterile thing, Belgarion.

I thought you said you were the one in charge!" Ce'Nedra exclaimed. I lied." Silk said. "It's a vice I have.

Ordinary men live in fear all the time. Didn't you know that? We're afraid of the weather, we're afraid of powerful men, we're afraid of the night and the monsters that lurk in the dark, we're afraid of growing old and of dying. Sometimes we're even afraid of living. Ordinary men are afraid almost every minute of their lives.

Everything is idiocy if you choose to look at it in the proper perspective.