“I had Eondel teach me," Raoden said. "Back when I was trying to find ways to prove that my father's laws were foolish. Eondel chose fencing becausehe thought it would be most useful to me, as a politician. I never figured I'd end up using it to keep my wife from slicing me to pieces.”

“I never did thank you," Breeze said."For what, Lord Breeze?""For pulling me out of myself," Breeze said. "For forcing me to get up, a year ago, and keep going. Ifyou hadn't helped me, I don't know that I would ever have gotten over . . . what happened."Sazed nodded. On the inside, however, his thoughts were more bitter. Yes, you saw destruction anddeath, my friend. But the woman you love is still alive. I could have come back too, if I hadn't losther. I could have recovered, as you did.”

“I'm an amalgamation of what I've needed to be. Part scholar, part rebel, part nobleman, part Mistborn, and part soldier. Sometimes I don't even know myself. I had a devil of a time getting all those pieces to work together. And, just when I'm starting to get it figured out, the world up and ends on me.”

“Raoden regarded himself in a small piece of polished steel. His shirt was yellow dyed with blue stripes, his trousers were bright red, and his vest a sickly green. Over all, he looked like some kind of confused tropical bird. His only consolation was that as silly he looked, Galladon was much worse.The large, dark-skinned Dula looked down at his pink and light green clothing with a resigned expression."Don't look so sour, Galladon." Raoden said with a laugh. "Aren't you Dulas supposed to be fond of garish clothing?“ "That's the aristocracy—the citizens and republicans. I'm a farmer; pink isn't exactly what I consider a flattering color."Then he looked up at Raoden with narrow eyes. "If you make even one comment about my resembling a kathari fruit, I will take off this tunic and hang you with it."Raoden chuckled. "Someday I'm going to find that scholar who told me all Dulas were even-tempered, then force him to spend a week locked in a room with you, my friend.”

“My dear, did you just try to prove the existence of God through the use of your cleavage?”

“You're getting better, my lady.""Don't patronize me.""No, really, Your Highness. When you started painting five years ago, I could never tell what it was you were trying to depict.""And this is a painting of . ."Ashe paused. "A bowl of fruit?" he asked hopefully.Sarene sighed in frustration._______________________________"Beautifully—which is more than I can say for the painting." He paused for a moment. "It's a horse, right?"Sarene scowled."A house?" he asked."It is not a bowl of fruit either, my lord," Ashe said. "I already tried that." "Well, she said it was one of the paintings in this room," Lukel said. "All we have to do is keep guessing until we find the right one.""Brilliant deduction, Master Lukel." Ashe said.”

“Well, Vin says that there's something behind all this, right? Some evil force of doom or whatever? Well, if I were said force of doom, then I certainly wouldn't have used my powers to turn the land black. It just lacks flair. Red. Now, that would be an interesting color. Think of the possibilities--if the ash were red, the rivers would run like blood. Black is so monotonous that you can forget about it, but red--you'd always be thinking, 'Why, look at that. That hill is red. That evil force of doom trying to destroy me certainly has style.”