Face your fears, Halt had always thought him, and more often than not they fade like mist in the sunshine

What do you mean, Araluen? Death?" Halt made a careless gesture. "The usual, I suppose: the sudden cessation of life. The end of it all. Departure for a happier place. Or oblivion, depending upon your personal beliefs.

Do you think you could put that boot back on?" he added mildly. "The window can only let in a limited ammount of fresh air and your socks are a tough ripe, to put it mildly." Oh, sorry!" said Horace, tugging the riding boot back on over his sock. Now that Halt mentioned it, he was aware of a rather strong odor in the room.

As he poured carefully, Arrow's head turned toward the sound. The horse made a low grumbling noise in his throat. "Hold your horses," he said. The he laughed. It seemed absurd to say tat to a horse.

That's a big nose," he croaked and instantly realized he shouldn't have said something so impolite. I must be light headed, e thought. But the face smiled. The teeth seemed inordinatley white against the dark beard and skin. The only one I have," he said.

Never give up because, if an opportunity arises, you have to be ready to take it.

But if we’re going to kill them all, we might as well make an occasion of it.” Toshak shrugged. “Do as you wish,” he said. “Occasion or not, as long as they’re all dead, I’m happy.