“You have to be quiet," I said. "We don't want to wake up the ladies. I don't think I want 'em to see me all drunk like this.""It's not really me we have to worry about, Dino.""Shit, am I too loud?""Yes. Shut up.”

“We all like to think we'll grow up,' Beatrice said. 'History's the one dream we all try and dream together.' I don't want to grow up.' You already have.' I want to grow down. I want to bury myself in the hard earth. I want to root myself there like a dead tree. I want to entangle myself in the earth's heart so nobody can ever pull me out.”

“We play a show, and there's a hundred people, and people will say "You must miss playing to a thousand people." But I don't. I might miss playing. That's what I would miss, but I don't miss it, because I am playing. I feel completely fortunate to have this outlet for something I don't really feel like I have a choice in, to make music. I've got to make it. And the fact that people care enough to want to come see me make it, or buy a recording, or want to call me up to talk about it? Fuck, man, I think that is gravy.”

“What in the world are we going to do with you?' Mrs. Ritter asked.I could think of a few things.Take it easy on me.Teach me different.Care about me just a little.So many times that year I wanted to shout,'It's not like I'm waking up in the morning and trying to mess up. I just don't get it!”

“I continue to wonder,' he said, glancing down at Min, 'why you all assume that I am too dense to see what you find so obvious. Yes, Nynaeve. Yes, this hardness will destroy me. I know.' ...You all claim that I have grown too hard, that I will inevitably shatter and break if I continue on. But you assume that there needs to be something left of me to continue on. ...That's the key, Nynaeve. I see it now. I will not live through this, and so I don't need to worry about what might happen to me after the Last Battle. I don't need to hold back, don't need to salvage anything of this beaten up soul of mine.”

“If anyone asks you if you’re taken,” I said, “the answer is yes.”“I think I can live with that,” he promised.“Good,” I said. “Because you don’t want to see me be cross.”“Too late.”“Shut up and dance, Walt.”“Shut up and dance, Walt.”We did—with the music of a psychotic griffin screaming behind us, and the sirens and horns of Brooklyn wailing below. It was quite romantic.”