A Man Can Get Killed In There.

Women," Mat Declared As He Rode Pips Down The Dusty, Little-used Road, "are Like Mules." He Frowned. "wait. No. Goats. Women Are Like Goats. Except Every Flaming One Thinks She's A Horse Instead, And A Prize Racing Mare To Boot. Do You Understand Me, Talmanes?" "pure Poetry, Mat," Talmanes Said, Tamping The Tabac Down Into His Pipe.

Duty Is Heavy As A Mountain, Death Is Light As A Feather.

In Shinear, A Woman [is] Safe Anywhere, Any Time-except From Trollocs And Myrddraal, Of Course-and Any Man [will] Die To See It So.

If Any Of These Women Had Been Here Instead Of Nynaeve, The World Would Have Ended.

He Doesn't Know What To Make Of Me," Mat Said Softly. "how Very Uncommon. I Can't Think Of Anyone Else Who Has Reacted That Way To You, Mat.