Brandon Sanderson

“Somebody has to start. Somebody has to step forward and do what is right, because it is right.”

“I spent years in a graduate literature program learning what makes great writing, and the only conclusion we came to was that the future of graduate literature programs was safe because nobody is ever going to agree on what makes great writing.”

“However a man who was honest and clever was always, ALWAYS more difficult to scam than someone who was both dishonest and clever.Sincerity. It was so difficult , by definition, to fake.”

“I'm not really sure why. But... do you stop loving someone just because they betray you? I don't think so. That's what makes the betrayal hurt so much - pain, frustration, anger... and I still loved her. I still do.”

“You cannot tempt the hearts of men who are pure.”

“I killed you once", the Lord Ruler said, turning back to Kelsier."You tried", Kelsier replied, his voice loud and firm, carrying across the square. "But you can't kill me, Lord Tyrant. I represent that thing you've never been able to kill no matter how hard you try. I am hope.”

“The man had come looking for a magical solution to his woes, but he had found an answer much more simple. Pain lost its power when other things became more important. Kahar didn't need a potion or an Aon to save him—he just needed something to do.”

“The door slammed open. Vivenna jumped, putting a hand to her chest.Vasher walked in. 'Start reaching for that sword when you're startled,' he said. 'There's little reason to grab your shirt, unless you're planning to rip it off.”

“She did believe in Austre. She loved the teachings of the five Visions. Humility. Sacrifice. Seeing another's problems before your own. Yet she was beginning to think that she—along with many others—had taken this belief too far, letting her desire to seem humble become a form of pride itself. She now saw that when her faith had become about clothing instead of people, it had taken a wrong turn.”

“They say a man doesn't know himself until he faces death for the first time. . . I don't know about that. It seems to me that the person you are when you're about to die isn't as important as the person you are during the rest of your life. Why should a few moments matter more than an entire lifetime?”

“What I'm trying to say is that you don't understand a man until you understand what makes him do what he does. Every man is a hero in his own story, Princess. Murderers don't believe that they're to blame for what they do. Thieves, they think they deserve the money they take. Dictators, they believe they have the right—for the safety of their people and the good of the nation—to do whatever they wish. . . . The truth is, most people who do what you'd call "wrong" do it for what they call "right" reasons. Only mercenaries make any sense. We do what we're paid to do. That's it. Perhaps that's why people look down on us so. We're the only ones who don't pretend to have higher motives. . . In a way, we're the most honest men you'll ever meet.”

“You don't have to believe in my miracles. You can call them accidents or coincidences, if you must. But don't pity me for my faith. And don't presume that you're better, just because you believe something different.”

“That's why we get annoyed by you Idrians. So high, so certain that what you do is right. If your god asked you to give up your Breath—or even the Breath of your child—wouldn't you do it? You give up your children to become monks, forcing them into a life of servitude, don't you? That's seen as a sign of faith. Yet when we do something to serve our gods, you twist your lips at us and call us blasphemers.”

“I don't want to make people mad. I just... well, how can people get better if you don't tell them what you honestly think?”

“Magic works best for me when it aligns with scientific principles.”

“Her aunt Sol had once told Shai to smile at the worst insults and snap at the minor ones. That way, no man would know your heart.”

“Your insult has offended me. If we were at the Peaks, we would have to duel in traditional alil'tiki'i fashion.""Which is what?" Teft asked. "With spears?"Rock laughed. "No, no. We upon the Peaks are not barbarians like you down here.""How then?" Kaladin asked, genuinely curious."Well," Rock said, "is involving much mudbeer and singing."“How's that a duel?”"He who can still sing after the most drinks is winner. Plus, soon' everyone is so drunk that they forget what argument was about."Teft laughed. "Beats knives at dawn, I suppose.”

“Wasing the where of what”

“You know, Ham," Breeze noted. "The only funny thing about your jokes is how often they lack any humor whatsoever.”

“My dear, have you ever known me to make an inflammatorily ridiculous statement without providing an equally ridiculous explanation to substantiate it?”“Of course not,” she agreed. “You are nothing if not exhaustive in your self-congratulatory made-up logic.”

“He found insanity no excuse, however, for irrational behavior.”

“Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are.”

“Can’t be any harder than sitting here and having a staring contest with mortality.”

“Be warned - Hammond does tend to be a bit optimistic about these kind of things. If the army were made up of one-legged mutes, he would praise their balance and their listening skills.”

“You said their prayer - is this the religion you believe in, then?""I believe in them all."Vin frowned. "None of them contradict each other?"Sazed smiled. "Oh, often and frequently they do. But, I respect the truths behind them all.”

“Dalinar took a deep breath, then forced himself to open his arms and pull back. “If you had hoped tosoothe my worries for the day, then this didn’t help.”She folded her arms. He could still feel where her safehand had touched him on the back. A tendertouch, reserved for a family member. “I’m not here to soothe you, Dalinar. Quite the opposite.”“Please. I do need time to think.”“I won’t let you put me away. I won’t ignore that this happened. I won’t—”“Navani,” he gently cut her off, “I will not abandon you. I promise.”She eyed him, then a wry smile crept onto her face. “Very well. But you began something today.”“I began it?” he asked, amused, elated, confused, worried, and ashamed at the same time.“The kiss was yours, Dalinar,” she said idly, pulling open the door and entering his antechamber.“You seduced me to it.”“What? Seduced?” She glanced back at him. “Dalinar, I’ve never been more open and honest in mylife.”“I know,” Dalinar said, smiling. “That was the seductive part.” He closed the door softly, then let outa sigh. Blood of my fathers, he thought, why can’t these things ever be simple?And yet, in direct contrast with his thoughts, he felt as if the entire world had somehow becomemore right for having gone wrong.”

“You want to be competent? she thought. You want to learn to be in control of what goes on around you, rather than just being pushed around? Then you’ll have to learn to deal with failure.”

“If we must put our head into the lion’s mouth, let us make certain that he chokes upon our flesh!”

“Overcome your guilt. Care, but not too much. Take responsibility, but don't blame yourself. Protect, save, help- but know when to give up. They're precarious ledges to walk. How do I do it?”

“What wasdat, sir? What wazzat sir? What wassat, sir?”“Wayne, what are you babbling about?” Waxillium asked.“Practicing my pretzel guy,” Wayne said. “He had a great accent...”Waxillium glanced at him. "That hat looks ridiculous.”“Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said in the pretzel-guy accent, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.”

“So, Wax,” Wayne butted in. “Where did you say that bloke was who had my hat?”“I told you that he got away after I shot him.”“I was hoping he’d dropped my hat, you know. Getting shot makes people drop stuff.”Waxillium sighed. “He still had it on when he left, I’m afraid.”Wayne started cursing.“Wayne,” Marasi said. “It’s only a hat.”“Only a hat?” he asked, aghast.“Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.”“It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.”

“The life of a person is more than the chaos of its passing. Emotion, Ruin. This is your defeat.”

“There was honor in facing the consequences of one’s actions.Wasn’t there?”

“We can be strong in the face of kings and priests, my lady," Ashe replied, "but to live is to have worries and uncertainties. Keep them inside, and they will destroy you for certain- leaving behind a person so callused that emotion can find no root in his heart.”

“What is belief—what is faith—if you don't continue it after failure?”

“Kaladin spun through the last motions of the kata, chasm forgotten, bridgemen forgotten, fatigue forgotten. For a moment, it was just him. Him and the wind. He fought with her, and she laughed.He snapped the spear back into place, holding the haft at the one-quarter position, spearhead down, bottom of the haft tucked underneath his arm, end rising back behind his head. He breathed in deeply, shivering.Oh, how I’ve missed that.He opened his eyes. Sputtering torchlight revealed a group of stunned bridgemen standing in a damp corridor of stone, the walls wet and reflecting the light. Moash dropped a handful of spheres in stunned silence, staring at Kaladin with mouth agape. Those spheres plopped into the puddle at his feet, causing it to glow, but none of the bridgemen noticed. They just stared at Kaladin, who was still in a battle stance, half crouched, trails of sweat running down the sides of his face.He blinked, realizing what he’d done. If word got back to Gaz that he was playing around with spears…Kaladin stood up straight and dropped the spear into the pile of weapons. “Sorry,” he whispered to it, though he didn’t know why. Then, louder, he said, “Back to work! I don’t want to be caught down here when night falls.”

“Of all the recruits in his cohort, he had learned the quickest. How to hold the spear, how to stand tospar. He’d done it almost without instruction. That had shocked Tukks. But why should it have? Youwere not shocked when a child knew how to breathe. You were not shocked when a skyeel took flightfor the first time. You should not be shocked when you hand Kaladin Stormblessed a spear and heknows how to use it.”

“Men had always told Kaladin that he fought like nobody else. He’d felt it on the first day he’d picked up a quarterstaff, though Tukks’s advice had helped him refine and channel what he could do. Kaladin had cared when he fought. He’d never fought empty or cold. He fought to keep his men alive.”

“The first step is to care, Tukks’s voice seemed to whisper. Some talk about being emotionless in battle. Well, I suppose it’s important to keep your head. But I hate that feeling of killing while calm and cold. I’ve seen that those who care fight harder, longer, and better than those who don’t. It’s the difference between mercenaries and real soldiers.It’s the difference between fighting to defend your homeland and fighting on foreign soil.It’s good to care when you fight, so long as you don’t let it consume you. Don’t try to stop yourself from feeling. You’ll hate who you become.”

“A dozen candles burned themselves to death on the shelf before me. Each of my breaths made them tremble. To them, I was a behemoth, to frighten and destroy. And yet, if I strayed too close, they could destroy me. My invisible breath, the pulses of life that flowed in and out, could end them freely, while my fingers could not do the same without being repaid in pain.’”“‘I understood in a moment of stillness,’” Litima read. “‘Those candle flames were like the lives of men. So fragile. So deadly. Left alone, they lit and warmed. Let run rampant, they would destroy the very things they were meant to illuminate. Embryonic bonfires, each bearing a seed of destruction so potent it could tumble cities and dash kings to their knees. In later years, my mind would return to that calm, silent evening, when I had stared at rows of living lights. And I would understand. To be given loyalty is to be infused like a gemstone, to be granted the frightful license to destroy not only one’s self, but all within one’s care.”

“That hat looks ridiculous.”“Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.”

“So,” Marasi said, “you traded a dead man’s scarf for another dead man’s gun. But…the gun itself belonged to someone dead, so by the same logic—”“Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.”“I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.”

“I really am impressed that you have been shot so often. Really.”“Getting hit’s not really that impressive,” Wayne noted. “It don’t take much skill to get shot. It’s avoiding the bullets that’s tough.”

“It’s what happens when you shoot someone,” Wayne pointed out. “At least, usually someone has the good sense to get dead when you go to all the trouble to shoot them.”

“I need something, Wax. A place to look. You always did the thinking.”“Yes, having a brain helps with that, surprisingly.”

“Well,” Waxillium said. “Perhaps I should begin by asking after your health.”“Perhaps you should,” Steris replied.“Er. Yes. How’s your health?”“Suitable.”“So is Waxillium,” Wayne added.They all turned to him.“You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable. Ahem. Is that mahogany?”

“Dalinar forced himself to be calm. "Roion, we cannot continue to treat this war as a game.""All wars are games. The greatest kind, with the pieces lost real lives, the prizes captured making for real wealth! This is the life for which men exist. To fight, to kill, to win.”

“How can you be a lighteyes without light eyes?” Teft said with a scowl.“By having dark eyes,” Rock said, as if it were obvious. “We do not pick our leaders this way. Is complicated. But do not interrupt story.” He milked another reed, tossing the husk into a pile beside him.“The nuatoma, they see our lack of Shards as great shame. They want these weapons very badly. It is believed that the nuatoma who first obtains a Shardblade would become king, a thing we have not had for many years. No peak would fight another peak where a man held one of the blessed Blades.”“So you came to buy one?” Kaladin asked. No Shardbearer would sell his weapon. Each was adistinctive relic, taken from one of the Lost Radiants after their betrayal.Rock laughed. “Ha! Buy? No, we are not so foolish as this. But my nuatoma, he knew of your tradition, eh? It says that if a man kills a Shardbearer, he may take the Blade and Plate as his own. Andso my nuatoma and his house, we made a grand procession, coming down to find and kill one of your Shardbearers.”Kaladin almost laughed. “I assume it proved more difficult than that.”“My nuatoma was not a fool,” Rock said, defensive. “He knew this thing would be difficult, but your tradition, it gives us hope, you see? Occasionally, a brave nuatoma will come down to duel aShardbearer. Someday, one will win, and we will have Shards.”

“Wit was insulting each person as they stepped onto the island. “Brightness Marakal! What adisaster that hairstyle is; how brave of you to show it to the world. Brightlord Marakal, I wish you’dwarned us you were going to attend; I’d have forgone supper. I do so hate being sick after a full meal.Brightlord Cadilar! How good it is to see you. Your face reminds me of someone dear to me.”“Really?” wizened Cadilar said, hesitating.“Yes,” Wit said, waving him on, “my horse. Ah, Brightlord Neteb, you smell unique today—did youattack a wet whitespine, or did one just sneeze on you? Lady Alami! No, please, don’t speak—it’s mucheasier to maintain my illusions regarding your intelligence that way. And Brightlord Dalinar.” Wit noddedto Dalinar as he passed. “Ah, my dear Brightlord Taselin. Still engaged in your experiment to prove amaximum threshold of human idiocy? Good for you! Very empirical of you.”

“I need you, Teft,” Kaladin said.“I said—”“Not your food. You. Your loyalty. Your allegiance.”The older man continued to eat. He didn’t have a slave brand, and neither did Rock. Kaladin didn’tknow their stories. All he knew was that these two had helped when others hadn’t. They weren’tcompletely beaten down.“Teft—” Kaladin began.“I’ve given my loyalty before,” the man said. “Too many times now. Always works out the same.”“Your trust gets betrayed?” Kaladin asked softly.Teft snorted. “Storms, no. I betray it. You can’t depend on me, son. I belong here, as abridgeman.”“I depended on you yesterday, and you impressed me.”“Fluke.”“I’ll judge that,” Kaladin said. “Teft, we’re all broken, in one way or another. Otherwise wewouldn’t be bridgemen. I’ve failed. My own brother died because of me.”“So why keep caring?”“It’s either that or give up and die.”“And if death is better?”It came back to this problem. This was why the bridgemen didn’t care if he helped the wounded ornot.“Death isn’t better,” Kaladin said, looking Teft in the eyes. “Oh, it’s easy to say that now. But whenyou stand on the ledge and look down into that dark, endless pit, you change your mind. Just likeHobber did. Just like I’ve done.” He hesitated, seeing something in the older man’s eyes. “I think you’veseen it too.”“Aye,” Teft said softly. “Aye, I have.”“So, are you with us in this thing?” Rock said, squatting down.Us? Kaladin thought, smiling faintly.Teft looked back and forth between the two of them. “I get to keep my food?”“Yes,” Kaladin said.Teft shrugged. “All right then, I guess. Can’t be any harder than sitting here and having a staringcontest with mortality.”