“The performance was exotic. It was short. And it wasn't much more dreadful than the Chinese opera that had been performed last year."Bravo!" Ned called. He applauded madly. Thankfully, everyone joined in.Blakely bowed, rather stiffly, and picked his way through the rows toward his seat. He didn't even make eye contact with Ned, didn't acknowledge that Ned had just saved him.Ha, Just because Blakely had no humility didn't mean Ned couldn't try to humiliate him further."Encore!" Ned shouted.Blakely fixed Ned with a look that promised eventual dismemberment. Luckily for the future attachment of Ned's limbs, nobody else took up the cry.”

“Ned knew what it was like to feel useless. He had been the expendable grandchild, the non-heir. He'd been the fool, the idiot, the one who could be counted on to muck up anything worth doing. His grandfather had expected nothing of Ned, and Ned, young idiot that he had been, had delivered spectacularly.”

“Ned?' he says, after a while. 'Oi, Ned?''What?''If someone says to you that the guy they're going out with doesn't have to prove how smart he is, what's your response?''That he's dumb.''And if he has a sixpack?''Dumb jock.''Not too intense.''Dumb jock with no personality.''And they see eye to eye?'Ned pauses. 'With the spitfire from Dili?''Same,' Tom corrects.Ned holds up a hand to where Tara would reach him in height.'Dumb jock with no personality and short-man syndrome.''Thanks, Ned.''Anytime.”

“What do you see?” asked Ned, his voice hushed.“I see…I see…an elephant.”“Elephant,” Lord Blakely repeated, as he transcribed herwords. “I hope that isn’t the extent of your prediction.Unless, Ned, you plan to marry into the genus Loxodonta.”Ned blinked. “Loxo-wha?”“Comprised, among others, of pachyderms.”

“TEACHERNext. Hey, Ned exclaimed --STUDENTEy, Ned asclaimed --TEACHERLet's boil --STUDENTLet's boil --TEACHERThe wolverines.”

“I was with her when she died,” Ned reminded the king. “She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father.” He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister’s eyes. Ned remembered the way she smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his.”