Women," Mat declared as he rode Pips down the dusty, little-used road, "are like mules." He frowned. "Wait. No. Goats. Women are like goats. Except every flaming one thinks she's a horse instead, and a prize racing mare to boot. Do you understand me, Talmanes?" "Pure poetry, Mat," Talmanes said, tamping the tabac down into his pipe.
Robert JordanTil shade is gone, til water is gone Into the shadow with teeth bared Screaming defiance with the last breath To spit in Sightblinderโs eye on the Last Day.
Robert Jordan