I've come to give you your gift back, Mordeth," Cauthon whispered. "I consider our debt paid in full.

It's not evil, Rand. I know something evil when I smell it. This isn't evil, it's just incredibly stupid.

Two hands. One to destroy, the other to save. Which had he lost?

The Black Tower stands with the Lion of Andor." -Logain

It was easier to be brave when someone needed your protection.

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.

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.