He has artistry," he repeated. "Because that's what it takes to blow things up. And cook his arm.

Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

If I say you're a goatherd's son, you say, 'Yes, Lord Ralon.'" Alanna gasped with fury. "I'd as soon kiss a pig! Is that what you've been doing-kissing pigs? Or being kissed?

Sometimes there's nothing you can do. [...] Sometimes they don't have enough to fight with.

I wish we had a sign that this flaming dragon is part of an attack or something. Those dung heaps might think it’s just one of their own monsters enjoying the sunrise.

Oakbridge did his work with dramatics and prophecies that all would go horribly awry. Having dealt with him over midwinter, Kel wondered why the man hadn’t died of a heart attack. Instead he seemed to thrive on disaster and finding people seated in the wrong places.

I believe in deeds, not words.