“How would you feel," Elayne said softly, "if you saw your queen trying to kill a Trolloc with a sword as you ran away?""I'd feel like I needed to bloody move to another country," Birgitte snapped, loosing another arrow, "one where the monarchs don't have pudding for brains.”

“You ride to battle?" Karede asked."I was thinking more of a saunter," Mat said. He shook his head. "I need a feel for what Demandred is doing...I'm going out there, Karede, and putting you fellows between me and the Trollocs sounds delightful. Are you coming?”

“Elayne could not help herself. Nynaeve wielding her tongue like a needle, Cerandin stubborn as two mules, and now this. She threw back her head and screamed with frustration.When the sound died, it seemed as if the animals had quieted. Horse handlers stood about, staring at her. Coolly, she ignored them. Nothing could worm its way under her skin now. She was as calm as ice, perfectly in control of herself.“Was that a cry for help,” Birgitte said, tilting her head, “or are you hungry? I suppose I could find a wet nurse in—”Elayne strode away with a snarl that would have done any of the leopards proud.”

“That man,' Elayne said, 'is never where he needs to be.''And yet,' Perrin said, 'he always arrives there eventually.”

“Why didn't you guess this would happen?" Elayne demanded.He looked at her, expressionless. One side of his mouth twitched up, then he pulled his hat down, shading his eyepatch."Light," Elayne said. "You knew. You spent this whole week planning with us, and you knew the entire time you'd throw it out with the dishwater.”

“I might be able to help, Daigian," Nynaeve said, leaning forward, laying her hand on the other woman's knee. "If I were to attempt a Healing, perhaps...""No," the woman said curtly."But—""I doubt you could help.""Anything can be Healed," Nynaeve said stubbornly, "even if we don't know how yet. Anything save death.""And what would you do, dear?" Daigian asked.[...]"I could do something," Nynaeve said. "This pain you feel, it has to be an effect of the bond, and therefore something to do with the One Power. If the Power causes your pain, then the Power can take that pain away.""And why would I want that?" Daigian asked, in control once again."Well... well, because it's pain. It hurts.""It should," Daigian said. "Eben is dead. Would you want to forget your pain if you lost that hulking giant of yours? Have your feelings for him cut away like some spoiled chunk of flesh in an otherwise good roast?"Nynaeve opened her mouth, but stopped. Would she? It wasn't that simple—her feelings for Lan were genuine, and not due to a bond. He was her husband, and she loved him. Daigian had been possessive of her Warder, but it had been the affection of an aunt for her favored nephew. It wasn't the same.But would Nynaeve want that pain taken away? She closed her mouth, suddenly realizing the honor in Daigian's words. "I see. I'm sorry.”

“I love words," Mat said. "There are some deliciously pretty words out there. 'Smile.' That's always sounded like a pretty word to me. Don't you think? Or, perhaps, the words 'I promise not to kill Egwene right now for trying to touch me, the Empress, may I live forever, because we really bloody need her for the next couple of weeks or so.'" He eyeed Fortuona pointedly.”