Crossroads of Twilight (The Wheel of Time, #10)

by Robert Jordan

wise man tried to avoid battles he would not only lose, but look foolish losing.

Perrin tended to trust people until they proved unreliable,

“For some who swear an oath, whatever is not forbidden is permitted, and whatever is not commanded can be ignored. Others take actions they believe will help their liege without first asking permission.

From now on, if you have a suggestion to make, make it. Even if I say no to nine in a row, I’ll always listen to a tenth. I’m not a clever man, but I’m willing to listen to people who are, and I think you are. Just don’t try poking me in the direction you want me to go. I don’t like that, Master Balwer.”

A ruler, or one who sought to rule, was not allowed the slightest suggestion of weakness or tears, not in public.

Cowardice was the sort of rumor that stuck like greasy mud; you never could wash it off completely.

You could forget who you were if you forgot where you came from, and sometimes the innkeeper’s daughter from Emond’s Field seemed a stranger to her.

Change came so slowly you never noticed it creeping up on you, or far too fast for comfort, but it came. Nothing stayed the same, even when you thought it did. Or hoped it would.

We are all going to die. Just hope that you aren’t the one who kills them.

“When you go to buy a sack of flour,” she said, “wear plain wool so the seller thinks you can’t afford to pay any more than you must. When you’re after flour by the wagonload, wear jewels so she thinks you can afford to come back for all she can lay hands on.”

Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you’re alive,