“My dear, have you ever known me to make an inflammatorily ridiculous statement without providing an equally ridiculous explanation to substantiate it?”“Of course not,” she agreed. “You are nothing if not exhaustive in your self-congratulatory made-up logic.”

“I am what the universe made me to be, my dear.”

“That hat looks ridiculous.”“Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.”

“My dear, did you just try to prove the existence of God through the use of your cleavage?”

“I am a Smedry, and we do ridiculous, unexpected, eccentric things like this all the time! Ha-ha!”

“What wasdat, sir? What wazzat sir? What wassat, sir?”“Wayne, what are you babbling about?” Waxillium asked.“Practicing my pretzel guy,” Wayne said. “He had a great accent...”Waxillium glanced at him. "That hat looks ridiculous.”“Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said in the pretzel-guy accent, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.”

“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.”