“Durnik needs a tower somewhere in the Vale," Belgarath was saying."I don't see why, father," Polgara replied."All of Aldur's disciples have towers, Pol. It's the custom.""Old customs persist --even when there's no longer any need for them.""He's going to need to study, Pol. How can he possibly study with you underfoot all the time?"She gave him a long, chilly stare."Maybe I should rephrase that.”

“Garion,' she said very calmly, 'the universe knew your name before that moon up there was spun out of the emptiness. Whole constellations have been waiting for you since the beginning of time.'I didn't want them to, Aunt Pol.'There are those of us who aren't given that option, Garion. There are things that gave to be done and certain people who have to do them. It's as simple as that.'He smiled rather sadly at her flawless face and gently touched the snowy white lock at her brow. Then, for the last time in his life, he asked the question that had been on his lips since he was a tiny boy. 'Why me, Aunt Pol? Why me?'Can you possibly think of anyone else you'd trust to deal with these matters, Garion?'He had not really been prepared for that question. It came at him in stark simplicity. Now at last he fully understood. 'No,' he sighed, 'I suppose not. Somehow it seems a little unfair, though. I wasn't even consulted.'Neither was I, Garion,' she answered. 'But we didn't have to be consulted, did we? The knowledge of what we have to do is born into us.”

“There was a sudden, shocking sound that echoed through Garion's head like an explosion."What was that?" Zakath exclaimed."You heard it, too?" Garion was amazed. "You shouldn't have been able to hear it!""It shook the earth, Garion. Look there." Zakath pointed off toward the north where a huge pillar of fire was soaring up toward the murky, starless sky. "What is it?""Aunt Pol did something. She's never that clumsy..."Belgarath and Beldin were both pale and shaken, and even Durnik seemed awed."She hasn't done anything that noisy since she was about sixteen," Beldin said,m blinking in astonishment. He looked suspiciously at Durnik. "Have you gone and got her pregnant?”

“My daughter accepted without comment the fact that she wasn't going to age. The peculiar thing about the whole business in her case was the fact that she really didn't. Beldin and the twins and I had all achieved the appearance of a certain maturity. We picked up wrinkles and grey hair and a distinguished look. Pol didn't...I guess a sorcerer is supposed to look distinguished and wise, and that implies wrinkles and grey hair. A woman with grey hair and wrinkles is called a crone, and I don't think Pol would have liked that very much. Maybe we all wound up looking the way we thought we ought to look. My brothers and I thought we should look wise and venerable. Pol didn't mind the wise part, but "venerable" wasn't in her vocabulary. I might want to investigate that someday. The notion that we somehow create ourselves in intriguing.”

“I was reading an old text on the exploits of Belgarath the Sorcerer, and I –“ Senji stopped, going very pale, turned, and gaped at Garion’s grandfather.“It’s a terrible letdown, isn’t it?” Beldin said. “We always told him he ought to try to look more impressive.”“You’re in no position to talk,” the old man said.“You’re the one with the earthshaking reputation.” Beldin shrugged. “I’m just a flunky. I’m along for comic relief.” “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you, Beldin?”“I haven’t had so much fun in years. Wait until I tell Pol.”“You keep your mouth shut, you hear me?”“Yes, O mighty Belgarath,” Beldin said mockingly.”

“What was that?" Belgarath asked, coming back around the corner."Brill," Silk replied blandly, pulling his Murgo robe back on."Again?" Belgarath demanded with exasperation. "What was he doing this time?""Trying to fly, last time I saw him." Silk smirked.The old man looked puzzled."He wasn't doing it very well," Silk added.Belgarath shrugged. "Maybe it'll come to him in time.""He doesn't really have all that much time." Silk glanced out over the edge."From far below - terribly far below - there came a faint, muffled crash; then, after several seconds, another. "Does bouncing count?" Silk asked.Belgarath made a wry face. "Not really.""Then I'd say he didn't learn in time." Silk said blithely.”

“...You're going to stay here and help Daran in every way you can. Don't let him sink into melancholia the way his father has...Now, pull yourself together. Blow your nose and fix your face. Daran's talking to the Rivan Warder right now. I'll take you to where they are, and then I have to leave.""You're not even going to stay for the funeral?""I've got the funeral in my heart, Pol, the same as you have. No amount of ceremony's going to make it go away. Now go fix your face. You look awful.”