“No matter what the chroniclers, the sages, and the poets tell you, all deaths are equal. To the dead, anyway. No matter what you die for-a cause, true love, yourself-people eventually forget that. Great causes fall apart, true loves find other true loves, and you eventually become the same bones and dust as everyone else. Pain, though... Pain is different. Not all pain is equal. I've taken hits from warlords charging at me on birdback that dragged me for twenty feet and walked them off with a stiff drink. I've been given four words in a dark room that made me go days without sleep, they cut me so deep. Pain is a weapon. And it all comes down to whoever's the one holding it when it sticks into you.”
Book:Ten Arrows of Iron