Mystery

“The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.”
― Isak Dinesen, Seven Gothic Tales

“Exaggerating?" Silk sounded shocked. "You don't mean to say that horses can actually lie, do you?
Hettar shrugged. "Of course. They lie all the time. They're very good at it."
For a moment Silk looked outraged at the thought, and then he suddenly laughed. "Somehow that restores my faith in the order of the universe," he declared.
Wolf looked pained. "Silk," he said pointedly, "you're a very evil man. Did you know that?"
"One does one's best," Silk replied mockingly.”
― David Eddings, Queen of Sorcery

“Would you look at this?" Silk waved a piece of parchment at the old man.
"What's the problem?" Belgarath took the parchment and read it.
"That whole business was settled years ago," Silk declared in an irritated voice. "Why are these things still being circulated?"
"The description IS colorful," Belgarath noted.
"Did you see that?" Silk sounded mortally offended. He turned to Garion. "Do I look like a weasel to you?"
"--an ill-favored, weasel-faced man," Belgarath read, "shifty-eyed and with a long, pointed nose. A notorious cheat at dice."
"Do you mind?”
― David Eddings, Enchanters' End Game

“Trust me. - Silk”
― David Eddings