A pig painted gold is still a pig.

There is one rule, above all others, for being a man. Whatever comes, face it on your feet.

If you have a sword, and the Aielman has his bare hands, it is an even fight. If you're good.

A pig painted gold is still a pig.

You didn't listen to me," Lan whispered. One last lesson. The hardest. Demandred struck, and Lan saw his opening. Lan lunged forward placing Demandred's sword point against his own side and ramming himself forward onto it. "I did not come here to win," Lan whispered, smiling. "I came here to kill you. Death is lighter than a feather." Demandred's eyes opened wide, and he tried to pull back. Too late. Lan's sword took him straight though the throat.

The best lie is often one too ridiculous to be taken for a lie.

Duty is heavier than a mountain, Dai Shan.' That time, Lan did flinch. How long had it been since someone had been able to do that to him with mere words? He remembered teaching that same concept to a youth out of the Two Rivers. A sheepherder, innocent of the world, fearful of the fate laid out before him by the Pattern.