You are the oaken staff I lean on, Taran said. More than that. He laughed. You are the whole sturdy tree, and a true warrior.
Coll, instead of beaming, looked wryly at him. Do you mean to honor me? he asked. Then say, rather, I am a true grower of turnips, and a gatherer of apples. No warrior whatever, save that I am needed thus for a while. My garden longs for me as much as I long for it.

Chapter 9 - The Chronicles of Prydain (1964–1968) - Book V : The High King (1968)