I'm sick of this. Call me what you like, say I'm without honor, I don't care. I'm not getting on any more horses to whack you people with a stick.

They had almost reached their horses when Neal's unmistakable drawl sounded through the stable: "Joren is so pretty. Say, Garvey, are you two friends because you can have him?

You are brave, kicking a chained prisoner. They must sing heroic ballads about you on winter nights!" (Alanna)

I'm about to commence four years of obeying the cause of a bruiser on a horse. I refuse to put down what might be the last book I see for months.

If you have to hit--hit low.

You're an obnoxious canker-blossom. Go ooze somewhere else.

Most humans think the appearance of quiet is quiet. They do not see that sometimes the enemy is as quiet as the serpent. Only when it has stolen all of their eggs will they know bad walks in the quiet as well as the noisy.