“Sandra was fond of an old Russian saying: When a man causes you a problem, remember: no man, no problem.”

“Likes to fight, does he?" Sandra said thoughtfully."Oh, yeah. He says there are only two reasons to fight." "Which are?""Joy and death."Her mother's brows went up. "Joy in death?""No, no... For joy, to stretch yourself with a friend; or death, to kill as quickly as you can. Nothing in between.”

“. . . you should always kick a man when he's down. It's much easier then.”

“The others saw him as he stumbled down the stairs, bleeding from nose and ears and eyes an mouth. The sheathed form of the Sword lay across his palms. He met their eyes, and choked out:"Remember. Remember, all of you."Mathilda's voice was infinitely gentle. "Remember what?""That I was a man, before I was King. Remember for me, when I forget.His hand closed on the black double-lobed hilt, and the moonfire in the opal glowed. He drew the Sword, thrust it high.And screamed as pain beyond all bearing ripped through him like white fire, turning his body to a thing of ash smoke.He screamed, and knew.”

“Ah, well, old girl, remember the definition of an Anglo-Saxon: A German who's forgotten his grandmother was Welsh.”

“Now let's move on to the subject of how a real man treats his wife. A real man doesn't slap even a ten-dollar hooker around, if he's got any self respect, much less hurt his own woman. Much less ten times over the mother of his kids. A real man busts his ass to feed his family, fights for them if he has to, dies for them if he has to. And he treats his wife with respect every day of his life, treats her like a queen - the queen of the home she makes for their children.”

“Be your own judge. But commit no trespass, remembering that where another's liberty begins your own inevitably meets its boundary.”