Tylin: In Ebou Dar, custom says that to show honesty, women get half-naked.
Elayne: Well, I don’t want to be rude. Half-naked it is.
Nynaeve: Yes, it’s fine with me. I’ll just think about Lan.
Tylin: Nothing like being half-naked to help you discuss high politics.
Elayne: It’s also good for raising Amyrlins.
Tylin: Custom also dictates that to show trustworthiness, you cluck like a chicken.
Elayne: Thank you. Cluck, cluck.
Nynaeve: This city has odd customs. Woof, woof.
Elayne: No, Nynaeve, woofing is a White Tower custom. Cluck, cluck.
Uno: [Baring chest.] I am a woman.
Elaida: I must spend most of the White Tower’s resources on building a huge palace for me that will be even taller that the White Tower. It will be called The Taller Tower. Alviarin: I use my intelligence to do evil.
Elaida: I use my stupidity to do evil. We’re a team!
White Tower Aes Sedai: We don’t like the looks of those Salidar Aes Sedai.
Salidar Aes Sedai: We don’t like the looks of those White Tower Aes Sedai.
Cairheinin: We don’t like the looks of those Aiel.
Aiel: We don’t like the looks of those treekillers.
Two Rivers men: We don’t like the looks of those Asha’man.
Asha’man: We don’t like the looks of anyone.
Perrin: My super powers tell me that all these people glaring at each other, fingering their weapons do not like each other. My super-strong nose tells me. My super-weak brain doesn’t.
Rand: My rescue party is about to kill each other. There are thousands of people that all hate each other, all following me. Wish I could help. On to more important things: I must memorize each and every woman who dies for me. There’s Braida. [Sigh.] She had such nice braids. There’s Talla. [Sigh.] She was taller than most men. There’s Lentila. [Sigh.] She made wonderful lentil soup. And now, it is time for a song about the dead women who have served me…
Sorilea: Maybe letting the Maidens fight wasn’t such a great idea.
Rand: We must take back Cairhein as quickly as possible. Ride slowly toward Cairhein.
Dobraine: Like this?
Dobraine: How about like this?
Rand: Too fast.
Dobraine: How about now?
Rand: Oh, just ride backwards.
Perrin: Faile, are you okay?
Faile: Smell my spiky-jealousy-mixed-with-hurt scent.
Perrin: Smell my sick-of-your-stupid-scents scent.
Faile: Now we’re getting somewhere.
Min: Rand, Perrin must be around you to save your life twice. Once was Dumai’s Wells, but there obviously must be a second time. My viewings never fail.
Rand: Send him to Ghealdan. I like to live on the edge.
Min: The edge of danger?
Rand: The edge of stupidity.
Birgitte: Mat thinks it’s bad that you mistreated him when he rescued you in the Stone of Tear
Aviendha: Near-sister, you should apologize to him. In my country, we call it “rude.”
Elayne: In my country, we call it “regal.”
Aviendha: Near-sister, in my country, when someone risks their life to save yours, you do not punish them.
Elayne: You have strange ways.
Aviendha: Near-sister, I think you have toh. I once nearly ripped off Rand al’Thor’s head for asking me if he had toh. You cannot be told you have toh; you just know. Being told you have toh shames you further.
Elayne: Do I have toh?
Aviendha: Yes. Now you are shamed even further.
Elayne: I don’t think I have toh.
Aviendha: No, you do. And even more shame is heaped upon you.
Elayne: Are you sure?
Aviendha: Absolutely. And shame for you again.
Elayne: Maybe I can have a shame box, to hold all my shame.
Aviendha: Or a dumpster.
Dark Lord: SO, MOGHEDIEN. DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE FUNNY IMPRESSIONS OF ME.
Moghedien: Ah, heh, heh, Great Lord. That was actually Demandred’s idea. I don’t really like doing impressions.
Dark Lord: OH, NO, MOGHEDIEN. I THINK YOU LOVE DOING IMPRESSIONS. NOW YOU CAN DO AN IMPRESSION OF A BEETLE AS YOU CRAWL BEFORE ME. THEN YOU CAN DO AN IMPRESSION OF A PUPPET AS MORIDIN CONTROLS YOU WITH A MINDTRAP.
Moghedien: That seems like a hard life.
Dark Lord: WELL, AT LEAST YOU’RE NOT FLOATING IN THE GIANT FIERY TOILET.
Tylin: This knife to your throat will stop your struggling. It will also peel off your clothes, duckling.
Mat: Elayne thinks this is my just desserts for what I do to women.
Tylin: I never knew you used knives on women.
Mat: Neither did I. But the important thing is that Elayne thinks it’s my just desserts.
Tylin: Does Elayne think you starve women into submission?
Mat: I’ll have to check. Probably.
Tylin: Then prepare for more just desserts. Without the actual dessert, of course.
Elayne: Mat, Aviendha wants me to apologize to you. So you have my forced apology. And I vow not to insult you, simple subject.
Nynaeve: Elayne wants me to apologize to you. So you also have my forced apology. And I vow not to insult you, you lout.
Mat: I love forced apologies mixed with insults at the crack of dawn.
Nynaeve: And we will not put you or ourselves in danger without telling you. Except when Moghedien is out there, trying to kill me and anyone else near me.
Mat: So how many of my men will Moghedien kill that you will try to hide from me?
Nynaeve: Only two.
Cadsuane: I have arrived.
Rand: So what?
Cadsuane: You are rude. I have left.
Min: I have found Harid Fel dead, and then Lady Colavaere dead.
Rand: Then we must comfort each other, naked.
Min: Yes. We must comfort each other, naked.
Mat: What will we do tonight?
Beslan: Tonight is Swovan Night. Custom says we drink.
Mat: We did that the other night.
Beslan: That was The Festival of Lights. Custom said we would drink.
Mat: How about next week?
Beslan: The Festival of Birds. Custom says we drink.
Mat: The day after that?
Beslan: The Festival of Drinking. Good day to drink. Oh, and I know my mother is forcing herself on you.
Mat: Custom says I must drink.
Elayne: I have found the Bowl of the Winds without Mat’s help!
Aviendha: In my country, that is called “being obnoxious by ignoring someone else who has helped you.”
Elayne: Wow. I have so much to learn about the Aiel, and your “non-rude” ways.
Aviendha: Now say, “Thank you, Mat.”
Elayne: “Thank you.” These are strange words you are telling me to say. Is this some spell in The Old Tongue? Have I raised the dead?
Aviendha: You have raised your conscience.
Elayne: My what?
Lan: My love for you is burning inside me. Like a block of ice burns.
Nynaeve: Then we must be married by Nesta din Reas, Mistress of the Ships. It’s a good idea to get married by the leader of a society I know nothing about, that already hates me.
Mat: You may need help obtaining the Bowl of the Winds.
Nynaeve: Matrim Cauthon! That is ridiculous! We have never needed help doing anything! Except escaping those bandits in Cairhein. And getting out of the Stone of Tear. And escaping Ronde Macura in Amadicia. What are the odds we will need help this time?
Gholam: Pretty good.
Elayne: Mat, we need you to stand there in front of a panel of Aes Sedai and a group of Windfinders. Just for no reason. Just to stand there.
Mat: It only took you a week to break your promise not to manipulate me. I assume you need my ta’veren-ness because you screwed up royally with Nesta din Reas.
Elayne: You are a most observant subject.
Mat: You have to actually be a queen to have subjects.
Elayne: You are a most intelligent subject.
Mat: Nynaeve is also from Andor. Is she your subject?
Elayne: When you are arrogant enough, you rise above being a subject.
Elayne: We must bring back all these Kinswomen to the White Tower.
Nynave: Many of them are not strong enough to be Aes Sedai. What do you suggest we do with them?
Elayne: Just think of all the glares and sniffs we could have with them!
Nynaeve: Now you’re making sense. Are we leaving anyone behind?
Elayne: Only Mat.
Nynaeve: Let’s go.
Rand: I can’t believe I did what I did to you. Through your moans of pleasure, and cries of “Yes! More!” I could tell you were miserable.
Min: How could you tell?
Rand: Because I have vast knowledge of women.
Min: How have you obtained such great knowledge?
Rand: By running in fear from women, I have mastered them.
Harine: Rand al’Thor, we will give you anything you want.
Rand: Sounds good. Merana, take it from here.
Harine: Merana, we will give you nothing you want.
Merana: Sounds good.
Harine: Have you, a Grey Aes Sedai, ever had a successful negotiation?
Merana: Once, in Caemlyn, I angered The Dragon Reborn for no reason.
Harine: For whom was that successful?
Merana: The Black Ajah.
Rand: I have handled the Sea Folk. I can do anything. I will now handle the rebels outside Cairhein.
Min: Last time you were alone, bad things happened.
Rand: What are the odds of me needing help from anyone?
Fain: Pretty good.
Rand: I can barely stand. Time for me to face Sammael.
Min: This time, you should not be alone.
Rand: I will not be alone. I will have nine thousand breakdancing Saldaeans on horseback helping me.
Sammael: Come and get me in Shadar Logoth, if you dare! No one can kill me, fool! Hahahahahaha…
Lord Gregorin: Lord Dragon, you do be the King of Illian.
Rand: Place the deadly crown on my empty head.