“Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death.”

“With his coming are the dread fires born again. The hills burn, and the land turns sere. The tides of men run out, and the hours dwindle. The wall is pierced, and the veil of parting raised. Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death. -fragment from The Prophecies of the Drqagon believed translated by N'Delia Basolaine First Maid and Swordfast to Raidhen of Hol Cuchone (circa 400 AB)”

“The Last Battle was not hope. The Last Battle was death. But it was a place to be, a place to go.”

“And for some reason, men and women who told the tale often found a need to add almost identical words. The storm is coming, they said, staring southward in worry. The storm is coming.”

“And yet many of us do it without families," Nynaeve said. "Without love, without passion beyond our own particular interests. So even while we try to guide the world, we separate ourselves from it.We risk arrogance, Egwene. We always assume we know best, but risk making ourselves unable to fathom the people we claim to serve.”

“We rode on the winds of the rising storm,We ran to the sounds of the thunder.We danced among the lightning bolts,and tore the world asunder.”

“I wonder if,” Nynaeve said, “we sometimes put the White Tower —as an institution— before the people we serve. I wonder if we let it become a goal in itself, instead of a means to help us achieve greater goals.”“Devotion is important, Nynaeve. The White Tower protects and guides the world.”“And yet, so many of us do it without families,” Nynaeve said. “Without love, without passion beyond our own particular interests. So even while we try to guide the world, we separate ourselves from it. We risk arrogance, Egwene. We always assume we know best, but risk making ourselves unable to fathom the people we claim to serve.”