A Cat For A Hat, Or A

The Fact That The Price Must Be Paid Is Proof It Is Worth Paying.

The Wheel Of Time Turns, And Ages Come And Pass, Leaving Memories That Become Legend. Legend Fades To Myth, And Even Myth Is Long Forgotten When The Age That Gave It Birth Comes Again. In One Age, Called The Third Age By Some, An Age Yet To Come, An Age Long Past, A Wind Rose In The Mountains Of Mist. The Wind Was Not The Beginning. There Are Neither Beginnings Nor Endings To The Turning Of The Wheel Of Time. But It Was A Beginning.

If Wishes Were Wings, Pigs Would Fly.

As The Wheel Of Time Turns, Places Wear Many Names. Men Wear Many Names, Many Faces. Different Faces, But Always The Same Man. Yet No One Knows The Great Pattern The Wheel Weaves, Or Even The Pattern Of An Age. We Can Only Watch, And Study, And Hope.

Schemes Within Schemes. The Great Serpent Is A Good Sign For You Aes Sedai, I Think. Someday You May Swallow Yourselves By Accident.