Ce'Nedra returned, frowning and a little angry. "They won't give me their eggs, Lady Polgara," she complained. "They're sitting one them." "You have to reach under them and take the eggs, dear." "Won't that make them angry?" "Are you afraid of a chicken?

If you're going to maintain any kind of self-respect, you're going to have to keep secrets from yourself.

Any time there's something so ridiculously dangerous that no rational human being would try it, they send for me.' --Garion

...I made some more threats. I've got this big knife back here." He poked his thumb over his shoulder. "It attracts a lot of attention sometimes.

The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor's farm. For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home. No matter how high Garion rose in life, he never forgot that all his memories began in that kitchen.

Now's the time to be alive - to see it all happen, to be a part of it. That makes the blood race, and each breath is an adventure.

It's only a story, isn't it?"... "Who's to say what's only a story and what's truth disguised as a story?