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

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

“Scuffing her bare feet into slippers, she shrugged into a silk robe, then hesitated, looking down at Perrin. He would be able to see her clearly, if he woke, but to her, he was just a shadowed mound. She wished her mother were there, now, to advise her. She loved Perrin with every fiber of her being, and he confused every fiber. Actually understanding men was impossible, of course, but he was so unlike anyone she had grown up with. He never swaggered, and instead of laughing at himself, he was... modest. She had not believed a man could be modest! He insisted that only chance had made him a leader, claimed he did not know how to lead, when men who met him were ready to follow after an hour. He dismissed his own thinking as slow, when those slow, considering thoughts saw so deeply that she had to dance a merry jig to keep any secrets at all. He was a wonderful man, her curly-haired wolf. So strong. And so gentle.”

“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.”

“Give me your trust, said the Aes Sedai.On my shoulders I support the sky.Trust me to know and to do what is best,And I will take care of the rest.But trust is the color of a dark seed growing.Trust is the color of a heart's blood flowing.Trust is the color of a soul's last breath.Trust is the color of death.Give me your trust said the queen on her throne,for I must bear the burden alone.Trust me to lead and to judge and to rule, and no man will think you a fool.But trust is the sound of the grave-dog's bark.Trust is the sound of betrayal in the dark.Trust is the sound of a soul's last breath.Trust is the sound of death.”

“Juilin," she asked hesitantly, "what were you going to do with the salt and cooking oil? Not exactly," she added more quickly. "Just a general idea." He looked at her for a moment. "I do not know. But they did not, either. That is the trick of it; their minds made up worse then I ever could. I have seen a tough man break when I sent for a basket of figs and some mice.”

“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.”