A Gnarled Old Branch Dulls The Blade

A Flapping Tongue Has Killed More Men Than Sudden Storms Ever Did.

Wounds To The Pride Are Remembered Long After Wounds To The Flesh.

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.

You Ride To Battle?" Karede Asked. "i Was Thinking More Of A Saunter," Mat Said. He Shook His Head. "i Need A Feel For What Demandred Is Doing...i'm Going Out There, Karede, And Putting You Fellows Between Me And The Trollocs Sounds Delightful. Are You Coming?

Reading Is Like Breathing. If You Take It Away, First I Become Antsy, Then Violent.