“Often you don't know whether a woman is friend, enemy or lover until it is too late. Sometimes, she is all three.”

“Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you're alive.”

“Pessimism, she is a fond friend of yours, yes?" -That's uncalled for. I barely know her. Mere acquaintances, at best.”

“As he did so, a wind rose up around him, around the man who had been called lord, Dragon Reborn, king, killer, lover and friend.”

“If you don't know everything, you must go on with what you do know.”

“One pretty woman means fun at the dance. Two pretty women means trouble in the house. Three pretty women means run at the hills.”

“Do you believe a man must be hard?” she asked. She was taking a chance. “Or strong?” By her tone, she left no doubt she saw a difference.Again Sorilea touched the tray; the smallest of smiles might have quirked her lips for an instant. Or not. “Most men see the two as one and the same, Cadsuane Melaidhrin. Strong endures; hard shatters.”Cadsuane drew breath. A chance she would have scoured anyone else for taking. But she was not anyone else, and sometimes chances had to be taken. “The boy confuses them,” she said. “He needs to be strong, and makes himself harder. Too hard, already, and he will not stop until he is stopped. He has forgotten how to laugh except in bitterness; there are no tears left in him. Unless he finds laughter and tears again, the world faces disaster. He must learn that even the Dragon Reborn is flesh. If he goes to Tarmon Gai’don as he is, even his victory may be as dark as his defeat.”