“Nothing that's really worthwhile should be easy, Belgarion. If it's easy, we don't value it...--Eriond”

“The whole world is beautiful, Belgarion' Eriond assured him in response to that unspoken thought. 'You just have to know how to look at it”

“Isn't it easier to forgive than to hate?-Eriond”

“Your extensive travels must have been fatiguing," Zakath said in that same flat tone, "particularly for the ladies. I'll see to it that your return journey to Mal Zeth is made in easy stages." "Your Majesty is very kind, but we're not going back to Mal Zeth.""You're wrong, Belgarion. You are going back to Mal Zeth.""Sorry, I've got a pressing engagement elsewhere.""I'll convey your regrets to Zandramas when I see her.""I'm sure she'd be overjoyed to hear that I'm not coming.""Not for very long, she won't. I fully intent to have her burned as a witch.""Good luck, your Majesty, but I don't think you'll find that she's very combustible.”

“Silk laughed. "You really should try not to let your knife do all your thinking for you. That's the one quality we find least attractive in our Cherek cousins.""And we find this compulsion to make clever remarks which seems to overwhelm our Drasnian brothers now and then almost equally unattractive," Barak told him coolly.”

“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.”

“There are things we know for certain.""Oh? Name one.""The sun's going to come up tomorrow morning.""Why?""It always has.""Does that really mean that it always will?"A faint look of consternation crossed her face. "It will, won't it?""Probably, but we can't be absolutely certain. Once you've decided that something's absolutely true, you've closed your mind on it, and a closed mind doesn't go anywhere. Question everything, Pol. That's what education's all about.”