"I once saw a man hanging from a cliff," he said slowly. "The brink was crumbling beneath his fingers, and the only thing near enough to grasp was a tuft of grass, a few long blades with roots barely clinging to the rock. The only chance he had of climbing back up on the cliff. So he grabbed it." His abrupt chuckle held no mirth. "He had to know it would pull free."
Asmodean to Rand al'Thor - The Fires of Heaven (15 October 1993)