“What did you do to this?' he asked in a horrorstruck voice.'It didn't want to come out of the dashboard.''So you felt the need to torture it?''You know how I am with tools. No pain was inflicted intentionally.'He shook his head, his face a mask of faux tragedy. 'You killed it.”

“This—” He shook his head. “You and me, you know it’s not a good idea.”“If you think so, maybe you should stay away.”“You don’t want me to,” he said, moving his hand to mine. Every time he touched me, my stomach got all jittery.“What do you want?” I asked.“You,” he said, his expression unreadable and his voice heavy and full of . . . full of what? Sadness? Regret? “To understandyou. To know that you’re safe. To not have to avoid the only person I can be myself around.”

“You ride to battle?" Karede asked."I was thinking more of a saunter," Mat said. He shook his head. "I need a feel for what Demandred is doing...I'm going out there, Karede, and putting you fellows between me and the Trollocs sounds delightful. Are you coming?”

“I didn't know," he said. "I didn't know you needed me."Her voice shook. "I always need you”

“Thomas had a depressing - and scary - thought. 'Am I . . . replacing someone? Did somebody get killed?'Minho shook his head. 'No, we're just training you - someone'll want a break. Don't worry, it's been a while since a Runner was killed.'For some reason that last statement worried Thomas, though he hoped it didn't show on his face.”

“She felt attracted by their weakness as by vertigo. She felt attracted by it because she felt weak herself. Again she began to feel jealous and again her hands shook. When Tomas noticed it, he did what he usually did: he took her hands in his and tried to calm them by pressing hard. She tore them away from him."What's the matter?" he asked."Nothing.""What do you want me to do for you?""I want you to be old. Ten years older. Twenty years older!"What she meant was: I want you to be weak. As weak as I am.”