And I want you to find something in the hills for the vigils to protect, like a rock or a thornbush. I don't want them around here.

Is it true?" Devlin asked me. "You're Prince Jaron?"
"KING Jaron, actually. News must travel slower amongst the illiterate." I glared at Gregor with every inch of disdain I felt. "Shouldn't you be groveling to me or bowing or something?"
Gregor smiled. "I think before I have the chance, you will already be dead."
"Ah. So much for all your toasts to my long life.

Nobody gives you respect in this life. You must take it, you must earn it, and then you must hold it sacred, because no matter how hard respect is to attain, it can be lost in an instant.

I need a sword first," I said. "People here keep taking mine.

Above all else, I think that you are a compulsive liar."
My laughter was tense, but sincere. "Hardly. In fact, I consider myself a compulsive truth teller. It's only that everyone else seems compelled to misunderstand me.

Let the wind blow, lad
Let fall the deep snow,
Let the stars fall, lad
we'll answer the call.
Let the dark come, lad
Ask not were its from.
After the fight, lad
we'll see mornings light.