“Tis a far cry from home for a poor lonely thing,O'er the deeps and wild waters of seas,Where you can't hear your dear mother's voice softly singLike a breeze gently stirring the trees.Come home, little one, wander back here someday,I'll watch for you, each evening and morn,Through all the long season 'til I'm old and greyAs the frost on the hedges at dawn.There's a lantern that shines in my window at night,I have long kept it burning for you,It glows through the dark, like a clear guiding light,And I know someday you'll see it, too.So hasten back, little one, or I will soon be gone,No more to see your dear face,But I know that I'll feel your tears fall one by one,On the flowers o'er my resting place.”

“The Land of Dreams, that mystical realm,where the oddest of visions appear,come wander through scenes of joyful peace, or stampeded through nightmares of fear. Dare we open those secret doors,down dusty paths of mind,in long-forgotten corners, what memories we'll find.Who rules o'er the Kingdom of Night,where all is not what it seems?'Tis I, the Weaver of Tales,for I am the Dreamer of Dreams!”

“Are you going to go down on your knees and beg for your life, old one?" Abbot Mortimer stared calmly into Cluny's savage eye. "I will never bend my knee on my own behalf. However, if I thought I could save the life of one of my friends I would gladly fall down on both knees. But I know you, Cluny, better than you know yourself. There is not a scrap of pity or mercy in your heart, only a burning desire for vengeance. Therefore, I will not kneel to one who is consumed by evil.”

“No doubt your sword is indeed a beautiful thing. It is a tribute to whoever forged it in bygone ages. There are very few such swords as this one left in the world, but remember, it is only a sword, Matthias! It contains no secret spell, nor holds within its blade any magical power. This sword is made for only one purpose, to kill. It will only be as good or evil as the one who wields it. I know that you intend to use it only for the good of your Abbey, Matthias; do so, but never allow yourself to be tempted into using it in a careless or idle way. It would inevitably cost you your life, or that of your dear ones. Martin the Warrior used the sword only for right and good. This is why it has become a symbol of power to Redwall. Knowledge is gained through wisdom, my friend. Use the sword wisely.”

“I fell, you see. Trod on my abbot, Father Habit. Oh, dear! I mean...”

“You love young ones and babes, I know this. The young will always befriend and admire you...all the young ones of the earth belong to you in friendship. Be good to them. —Breeze, to Sunflash the Mace”

“One of Us:Someday, the light will shine like a sun through my skin & they will say, What have you done with your life? & though there are many moments I think I will remember, in the end, I will be proud to say, I was one of us.”