"Haven't you anything better to do than ask all these questions?" Aunt Pol asked.
"Not really," Garion said, and then instantly knew that he'd made a mistake.
"Art thou aware, Belgarath, of the misfortune which hath befallen us? We turn to thee for counsel."
"Cho-Hag," Wolf said testily, "you sound like a bad Arendish epic. Is all that theeing and thouing really necessary?"
Cho-Hag looked embarrassed and glanced at King Anheg.
"My fault, Belgarath," Anheg said ruefully. "I set scribes to work to record our meetings. Cho-Hag was speaking to history as well as to you." His crown had slippedd a bit and perched precariously over one ear.
"History's very tolerant, Anheg," Wolf said. "You don't have to try to impress her. She'll forget most of what we say anyway."
I don't mind a good supper, but I'd rather not have to fight with it first.
King Rhodar about boar-hunting
"Have you seen my boar, Mister Wolf?" Garion asked proudly.
"An excellent animal," Wolf said, though without much enthusiasm, "but didn't anyone tell you it's customary to jump out of the way after the boar has been speared?"
"I didn't really think about it," Garion admitted, "but wouldn't that seem - well - cowardly?"
"Were you that concerned about what a pig might think of you?"
"Well," Garion faltered, "not really, I guess."
"You're developing an amazing lack of good sense for one so young," Wolf observed. "It normally takes years to reach the point you seem to have arrived at overnight."
"Now, what would you like for supper?"
"I'm not hungry," Garion said defiantly.
"Really? You probably need a tonic then? I'll fix you one."
"I think I've changed my mind," Garion said quickly.
"I rather thought you might," Aunt Pol said.
"Tell me, my Lord," Aunt Pol said, "do you by chance have a bathtub in your house?"
"Bathing in winter is dangerous, lady Polgara," the count warned her.
"My Lord," she stated gravely, "I've been bathing winter or summer for more years than you could possibly imagine."
"Let her bathe, Reldegen," Mister Wolf urged. "Her temper deteriorates quite noticeably when se thinks she's getting dirty."
"A bath wouldn't hurt you either, Old Wolf," Aunt Pol retorted tartly. "You're starting to get a bit strong from the downwind side."
Mister Wolf looked a bit injured.
I didn't particularly feel like being arrested, so I argued with the soldiers a bit. Several of them died during the argument - those things happen once in a while. Unfortunately, one of the casualties was Taur Urgas' oldest son. The king of the Murgos took it personally. He's very narrow-minded sometimes.
Silk about Taur Urgas' resenment against him
By the end of the first hour Garion found that holding the image in his mind had grown easier. It was no longer necessary to concentrate all his attention on it as it had been at first. By the end of the second hour, it had become no more than tedious. To relieve the boredom of it as they rode through the thickening ashfall, he thought about one of the huge skeletons they had passed when they had first entered the wasteland. Painstakingly he constructed one of them and placed it in the image he was holding. On the whole he thought it looked rather good, and it gave him something to do.
"Garion," Aunt Pol said crisply, "please don't try to be creative."
"Just stick to sand. The skeleton's very nice, but it looks a bit peculiar with only one side."
"There wasn't a skeleton on my side of the image - just yours. Keep it simple, Garion. Don't embellish."
I've got as much right to make a fool of myself in public as anyone else.
"Did anybody think to bring something to drink?" he [Silk] asked.
"Didn't you get enough last night?" Belgarath replied.
"That was for entertainment. What I need now is something therapeutic."
"Water?" Garion suggested.
"I'm thirsty, Garion, not dirty."
It's gaudy, ugly and in terribly bad taste. It does, however, suit my personality almost perfectly.
Urgit about the Drojim Palace
"Where am I going to get the troops I need?"
"Hire mercenaries," Silk suggested without turning from the window where he stood.
"Dip into the royal vaults and bring out some of the fabled red gold of Angarak. Send word into the Kingdoms of the West that you need good men and that you're willing to pay them good gold. You'll be swamped with volunteers."
"I prefer men who fight for patriotism - or religion," Urgit declared stiffly.
Silk turned with an amused expression. "I've noticed that preference in many kings," he observed. "It doesn't put such a strain on royal treasuries. But believe me, your Majesty, loyalty to an ideal can vary in its intensity, but loyalty to money never changes. That's why mercenaries are better fighters."
"You're a cynic," Urgit accused.
Silk shook his head. "No, your Majesty. I'm a realist."
"You know something, Grandfather?" Garion said with a faint smile. "You're a fraud. You pretend to be as cold as ice and as hard as a rock, but underneath you've got the same emotions as all the rest of us."
"Please, Garion, don't bandy that about too much."
"Does it bother you being human?"
"Well, not really, but after all, I do sort of have a reputation to maintain."
"She's long and skinny, she wriggles, she doesn't have any arms or legs, and she's poisonous. By definition, she's a snake."
Silk about Zith (and Ce'Nedra's reply)
Silk was standing a safe distance away from Zith and her new brood. His eyebrow was raised slightly.
"Congratulations, Zith," he said finally to the little green mother. Then he looked sternly at the others. "This is all very nice, I suppose," he added, "but if anybody calls them little nippers, I'll just scream."
Usually, when I need a boat, I steal one. Using one of my own seems immoral somehow.
"Who is she?" Zakath asked Garion in puzzlement.
"She's my Grandmother," Garion replied simply. "Belgarath's wife."
"I didn't know he had a wife."
"Where did you think Aunt Pol came from?"
"I guess I hadn't thought of that."