“Moiraine: It seems Ryne was wrong as well as a Darkfriend. You were better than he.Lan: He was better. But he thought I was finished, with only one arm. He never understood. You surrender after you're dead.”

“I have lived for four centures," he said. "Perhaps I am still a youth, in that all of us are, compared to the timeless age of the Wheel itself. That said, I am one of the oldest people in existence."Moiraine smiled. "Very nice. Does that work on the others?"He hesitated. Then, oddly, he found himself grinning. "It worked pretty well on Cadsuane."Moiraine sniffed. "That one...Well, knowing her, I doubt you fooled her as well as you assume. You may have the memories of a man four centuries old, Rand al'Thor, but that does not make you ancient. Otherwise, Matrim Cauthon would be the patriarch of us all.""Mat? Why Mat?""It is nothing," Moiraine said. "Something I am not supposed to know. You are still a die-eyed sheepherder at heart.”

“She understood his eyes, colder than winter's heart. A man who knew he was dead and couldn't make himself care; you are spared that. Mashiara. His lost love.”

“We should ask our commanders..." Elayne trailed off. "If there are any we trust not to be under Compulsion.""There's only one," Mat said grimly, meeting her eyes. "And he's telling you we are finished if we continue as we have. The earlier plan was a good enough one, but after what we lost today...Elayne, we're dead unless we choose one place to stand, gather together, and fight."One last toss of the dice.”

“He wanted to laugh. Only, the sound wouldn't come out. He couldn't summon even a wry humor, not anymore. Light! I can't keep this up. My eyes see as if in a fog, my hand is burned away, and the old wounds in my side rip open if I do anything more strenuous than breathe. I'm dry, like an overused well. I need to finish my work here and get to Shayol Ghul.Otherwise, there won't be anything left of me for the Dark One to kill.That wasn't a thought to cause laughter; it was one to cause despair. But Rand did not weep, for tears could not come from steel.For the moment, Lews Therin's cries seemed enough for both of them.”

“By the way, I saved Moiraine. Chew on that as you try to decide which of the two of us is winning."-Mat”

“Some men […] choose to seek greatness, while others are forced to it. It is always better to choose than to be forced.A man who is forced is never completely his own master. He must dance on the strings of those who forced him.”