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King Sharaman: In all my travels I have never looked upon a more beautiful city, your Highness.

Tamina: You should have seen it before your horde of camel-riding illiterates descended upon it.

Tamina: You know you really walk like one. Head held high, chest out, long stomping strides. The walk of a self-satisfied Persian prince. No doubt it comes from being told since birth the world is yours, and actually believing it. :laugh:

Tamina: Without the right sand it's just another knife. Not even very sharp.

Prince Dastan: This sand, is there more of it?

Tamina: Of course not!

Prince Dastan: How can I get some?

Tamina: Try standing on your head and holding your breath.

Tamina: I'm desperate for a drop of water!

Prince Dastan: Well that's more than we have since you emptied our canteen hours ago.

Tamina: I wasn't born of this desert like you Persians, all shriveled and angry. My constitution is much more... delicate.

Prince Dastan: I think you mean spoiled.

Tamina: The wells of Alamut are famed for their clean, cold water.

Prince Dastan: Perhaps less time admiring your wells and more time guarding your walls, and you wouldn't be here.

[pause]

Tamina: We could use your help getting to the temple.

Sheik Amar: Oh, by crossing the Hindu Kush with a storm blowing? You attract trouble like flies 'round rotting mango *and* you're insane!

Tamina: There's gold at the temple. More than ten horses can carry. Tax-free.

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