My name's Jean Tannen, and I'm the ambush.

You're one third bad intentions,one third pure avarice,and one eighth sawdust.What's left,I'll credit,must be brains.

The water caught the Falselight glimmer like layers of shifting, translucent mirrors and formed split-second works of art in the air, but men cursed it anyway, because it made their heads wet.

Only one way to win when you're being chased by someone bigger and tougher than you. Turn straight around, punch their teeth out, and hope the gods are fond of you.

You can't help being young, but it's past time that you stopped being stupid.

My name's Jean Tannen, and I'm the ambush.

What kind of knife is this?” Locke held a rounded buttering utensil up for Chains’ inspection. “It’s all wrong. You couldn’t kill anyone with this.