But to be honest, lad, few men could endure an entire summer of drought; we all need a little rain in our lives.
Chap. 3, Siena, Tuscany, March 1271, p. 33.

For nearly two months, he'd had his quest to sustain him, his determination to bring word of Bran's death to Montargis. It had serves as a lifeline, something to cling to even in the depths of despair.
Chap. 5, Talamone, the Maremma, Tuscany, May 1271, p. 70.

Never forget, Llewelyn, that the world's greatest fool is a Welshman who trusts an English King.
Chap. 7, Castell Y Bere, Wales, December 1272, p. 85.

She'd never understood why her church held humility to be a virtue, had never sought to curb her prideful nature, and as a result, she'd had little practice in cultivating the modest demeanor, the demure bearing that her society demanded of its women.
Chap. 8, Melun, France, August 1273, p. 90.

After one voyage from Wissant...