“He ate my horse.”

“You're getting better, my lady.""Don't patronize me.""No, really, Your Highness. When you started painting five years ago, I could never tell what it was you were trying to depict.""And this is a painting of . ."Ashe paused. "A bowl of fruit?" he asked hopefully.Sarene sighed in frustration._______________________________"Beautifully—which is more than I can say for the painting." He paused for a moment. "It's a horse, right?"Sarene scowled."A house?" he asked."It is not a bowl of fruit either, my lord," Ashe said. "I already tried that." "Well, she said it was one of the paintings in this room," Lukel said. "All we have to do is keep guessing until we find the right one.""Brilliant deduction, Master Lukel." Ashe said.”

“Once there was a bunny. This bunny had a birthday party. It was the bestest birthday party ever. Because that was the day the bunny got a bazooka. THe bunny loved his bazooka. He blew up all sorts of things on the farm. He blew up the stable of Henrietta the Horse. He blew up the pen of Pugsly the Pig. He blew up the coop of Chuck the Chicken. "I have the bestest bazooka ever," the bunny said. Then the farm friends proceeded to beat him senseless and steal his bazooka. It was the happiest day of his life. The end. Epilogue: Pugsly the Pig, now without a pen, was quite annoyed. When none of the others were looking, he stole the bazooka. He tied a bandana on his head and swore vengeance for what had been done to him. "From this day on," he whispered, raising the bazooka, "I shall be known as Hambo.”

“Wit was insulting each person as they stepped onto the island. “Brightness Marakal! What adisaster that hairstyle is; how brave of you to show it to the world. Brightlord Marakal, I wish you’dwarned us you were going to attend; I’d have forgone supper. I do so hate being sick after a full meal.Brightlord Cadilar! How good it is to see you. Your face reminds me of someone dear to me.”“Really?” wizened Cadilar said, hesitating.“Yes,” Wit said, waving him on, “my horse. Ah, Brightlord Neteb, you smell unique today—did youattack a wet whitespine, or did one just sneeze on you? Lady Alami! No, please, don’t speak—it’s mucheasier to maintain my illusions regarding your intelligence that way. And Brightlord Dalinar.” Wit noddedto Dalinar as he passed. “Ah, my dear Brightlord Taselin. Still engaged in your experiment to prove amaximum threshold of human idiocy? Good for you! Very empirical of you.”

“So, Wax,” Wayne butted in. “Where did you say that bloke was who had my hat?”“I told you that he got away after I shot him.”“I was hoping he’d dropped my hat, you know. Getting shot makes people drop stuff.”Waxillium sighed. “He still had it on when he left, I’m afraid.”Wayne started cursing.“Wayne,” Marasi said. “It’s only a hat.”“Only a hat?” he asked, aghast.“Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.”“It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.”

“Vin snorted, kneeling in the low tent as she pulled her belt tight; then she crawled over to him. "I don't know how you read while riding," she said. "Oh, it's quite easy - if you aren't afraid of horses." "I'm not afraid of them," Vin said. "They just don't like me. They know I can outrun them, and that makes them surly.”

“You are out of control, Rand al'Thor,' she declared.I do what must be done,' he said, speaking now from the shadows. He sounded exhausted. ...I hate what you just did, Rand,' Nynaeve snarled. 'No, "Hate" isn't strong enough. I loathe what you've done. What has happened to you?'Test him!' Rand whispered, voice dangerous. 'Before condemning me, let us first determine if my sins have achieved anything beyond my own damnation.”