Robert Jordan
Robert Jordan
James Oliver Rigney, Jr., better known by his pen name Robert Jordan, was an American author of epic fantasy. He is best known for the Wheel of Time series, which comprises 14 books and a prequel novel. He is one of the several writers who have written seven original Conan the Barbarian novels that are highly acclaimed to this day. Rigney also wrote historical fiction under his pseudonym Reagan O'Neal, a western as Jackson O'Reilly, and dance criticism as Chang...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth17 October 1948
CityCharleston, SC
CountryUnited States of America
A crafty enemy will set a weak ambush you are meant to break through. Confident because you have dealt with the threat, your guard relaxed, you walk into the second, stronger ambush.
Trust is as slippery as a basket of eels sometimes.
To anger an Aes Sedai is to put your head in a hornets' nest.
It was easier to trip a fool than to knock him down.
You are as eloquent as ever, Mat," Egwene said dryly. "Do you still have your pet fox?" "I do," Mat said. "He's snuggled up nice and warm.
We should ask our commanders..." Elayne trailed off. "If there are any we trust not to be under Compulsion." "There's only one," Mat said grimly, meeting her eyes. "And he's telling you we are finished if we continue as we have. The earlier plan was a good enough one, but after what we lost today...Elayne, we're dead unless we choose one place to stand, gather together, and fight." One last toss of the dice.
You're not asking me to guess the mind of Matrim Cauthon, are you?" Elayne asked. "I'm convinced that Mat only acts simple so that people will let him get away with more.
If any of these women had been here instead of Nynaeve, the world would have ended.
Yes, I'm alive," Mat said. "I'm usually pretty good at staying alive. I've only failed one time that I can remember, and it hardly counts.
The Amyrlin Seat has fallen," a nearby Aes Sedai cried amid the crystallized Sharans. "The Amyrlin Seat has fallen!
You didn't listen to me," Lan whispered. One last lesson. The hardest. Demandred struck, and Lan saw his opening. Lan lunged forward placing Demandred's sword point against his own side and ramming himself forward onto it. "I did not come here to win," Lan whispered, smiling. "I came here to kill you. Death is lighter than a feather." Demandred's eyes opened wide, and he tried to pull back. Too late. Lan's sword took him straight though the throat.
The corpse's hand reached up and grabbed Shaisam by the throat. He gasped, thrashing, as the corpse opened its eye. "There's an odd thing about disease I once heard, Fain," Matrim Cauthon whispered. "Once you catch a disease and survive, you can't get it again.
The yellowfly is almost too small to see, but if you leave its egg in your skin, you will lose an arm or leg before it hatches - if it does not kill you.
If it's not forbidden, then it's allowed