The Dragon Reborn
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Rand: Shouldn’t you be helping me figure out what to do?
Moiraine: The Pattern will guide you. You alone must decide what to do.
Rand: What if the Pattern wants me to run off in the middle of the night?
Moiraine: Then I will become furious. Now excuse me, I must speak with a string of incoherent refugees.
Perrin: That’s odd. Must be because you’re going insane. I must now be wary of you.
Ragan: The Soulless.
Masema: The Shadowsoulled.
Lan: The Shadow-eyed.
Moiraine: The Shadow-walkers.
Min: The Soul Brothers?
Uno: The Soul Masters.
Min: Oh, the Funky Shadow Dancers.
Moiraine: The Dark Soul Chorus.
Lan: The Dark One’s Ensemble of Evil-Souled Dark Nightwalkers.
Min: I wonder if they’ll show up later in the story.
Lan: Probably not.
Masema: The Sword That is Not a Sword.
Uno: The Sword That Cannot Be Touched.
Ragan: The Sword That Launched a Thousand Ships.
Lan: The Sword That Looks Like Crystal, but Isn’t, Because It’s Really Sharp, and Pointy, And Can be Used As a Male Sa-angreal to Destroy One’s Enemies.
Nynaeve: But I’m tired of yanking my braid.
Verin: Try punching yourself in the stomach.
Nynaeve: Ahhh. Thanks.
Verin: In a minute. I must stare at this wall.
Perrin: That seems unfair.
Lan: Do, it sheepherder.
Perrin: Rand is “sheepherder.” I’m “blacksmith.”
Lan: Thanks. Do it, blacksmith.
Perrin: I’m only questioning her.
Loial: “To question an Aes Sedai is to fall down the mountain enough to get a few cuts and bruises.”
Perrin: I’m really only asserting myself.
Loial: “To assert oneself before an Aes Sedai is to stare at the mountain until the glare from the sun causes serious eye damage.”
Perrin: I think you’re being foolish.
Loial: “To doubt the word of one warning you about Aes Sedai is to actually name your first child ‘Mountain,’ and have that child mocked and derided every day, and called names like ‘Big Fat Mountain,’ then have that child become a poorly funtioning adult who works long hours digging mud holes in the fields, and talking to himself.”
Perrin: I talk to wolves.
Moiraine: Good luck with that.
Nynaeve: I’m a great Healer.
Elayne: I feel left out.
Egwene: I’m sure we’ll find something stupid for you to do, like making ter’angreal.
Egwene: I hope my skirts are smooth.
Nynaeve: Me too. Smooth skirts are a must in today’s world.
Egwene: Where’s your brother?
Nynaeve: Yeah, where’s your brother?
Gawyn: He’s out buying more mirrors. I’ll be crying under my bed.
Egwene: Since he only does right, he only hurts evil people, right?
Elayne: No, he mostly hurts good people. And that’s what makes him so perfect.
Egwene: Wow. I wish I could be so perfect.
Elayne: Don’t worry, you will be.
Nynaeve: Has he given his permission for you to bond him?
Elayne: Do you want me to raise my chin?
Nynaeve: Are you drunk?
Mat: I’m sorry, what?
Lanfear: Go Light.
Mat. Oh. Luckily no one warned me about an evil, beautiful woman who might have been in a Dark Prophecy in an earlier adventure.
Galad: Not the face!
Gawyn: Yes, the face.
Elayne: A trap-walking-into! Yay!
Egwene: Do we put ourselves in a sack like last time?
Elayne: I think the sack is waiting for us in Tear.
Egwene: Oh, good.
Mat: Doesn’t the royal family or the White Tower have carrier pigeons?
Elayne: Nope. Fresh out.
Mat: Seems silly.
Elayne: See this chin? I’ll raise it.
Egwene: Bicker, bicker.
Nynaeve: Braid yank, braid yank.
Elayne: Chin raise, chin raise.
Ship Captain: Need help?
Nynaeve: How dare you! We’ll be fine!!
Bandits: Put them into the sacks.
Egwene: Ahh. Trapped again by our own stupidity. Home, sweet home.
Underling: What if she raises her chin, milord?
Rahvin: She is a skilled chinmaster. Use the heron-marked chin I have given you.
Mat [Eavesdropping]: Good luck to that guy. Er..I should go save her. I guess.
Loial: “Wishing for an hammer is like climbing a mountain, and then slipping…”
Perrin: Oh, shut up.
Perrin: Why is that?
Lan: Our horses are actually statues of horses. Giddyup.
Hopper: Shadow brothers.
Moiraine: Four-footed Darkwalkers.
Lan: Those Who Cannot Be Named, Other Than To Say They Are Evil Wolves.
Perrin: You made that last one up.
Lan: Yes, I did.
Faile: Okay, Shaggy-hair.
Perrin: Stop it.
Faile: Stop what, big man?
Perrin: Leave me alone.
Faile: Why, farmboy?
Perrin: I suddenly love you.
Faile: Good. Now wear this collar. I now own you.
Liandrin: Step this way, please.
Bel’al: Step this way, please.
Bel’al: Damn, he’s on to me.
Nynaeve: We were happy in our prison, thank you very much.
Egwene: Yeah, now we have to actually do stuff. Thanks a lot.
Mat: Maybe you’ll acknowledge my effort in four books or so.
Rand: What did you call me?
Aiel: Nothing. Go Rand.