Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death.
Still waters run deep. All things change until we wake. Dreams drift in the wind.
If any of these women had been here instead of Nynaeve, the world would have ended.
If you must mount the gallows, give a jest to the crowd, a coin the hangman, and make the drop with a smile on your lips.
A flapping tongue has killed more men than sudden storms ever did.
The corpse's hand reached up and grabbed Shaisam by the throat. He gasped, thrashing, as the corpse opened its eye. "There's an odd thing about disease I once heard, Fain," Matrim Cauthon whispered. "Once you catch a disease and survive, you can't get it again.