What happened to your foot?" "I had a little disagreement with an eagle --stupid birds, eagles. He couldn't tell the difference between a hawk and a pigeon. I had to educate him. He bit me while I was tearing out a sizable number of his wing feathers." "Uncle," Polgara said reproachfully. "He started it.

Call it my little gesture toward social conscience, but I like to think I'm teaching a certain number of people to read. Now that sounds pretentious!

Events are like horses. Sometimes they run away. After they've run for a while, though, they'll start to walk again. Then there'll be a time to put everything together.

We're living in momentous times, Garion. The events of a thousand years and more have all focused on these very days. The world, I'm told, is like that. Centuries pass when nothing happens, and then in a few short years events of such tremendous importance take place that the world is never the same again." I think that if I had my choice, I'd prefer one of those quiet centuries," Garion said glumly. Oh, no," Silk said, his lips drawing back in a ferretlike grin. "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.

I'm a storyteller, not a prophet. I'm just interested in a good story.

Nothing that ever happens is so unimportant that it doesn't change things.

Impatience is a poor substitute for a well-considered plan.