Quotes from Brandon Sanderson

In Kaladin's eyes, there was no sin greater than the betrayal of one's allies in battle. Except, perhaps, for the betrayal of one's own men—of murdering them after they risked their lives to protect you.

So it's our fault." "Yes. Like everything else. War. Famine. Bad hair." "Wait. Bad hair?" Shallan blew a lock of it out of her eyes. "Loud. Stubborn. Oblivious to our attempts to fix it. The Almighty gave us messy hair to prepare us for living with men.

Pity can be a powerful tool. Anytime you can make someone else feel something, you've got power over them.

It made sense. But rich folk, they had a different word for the crapper. They'd call it a "commode" or a "washroom." That way, when someone asked for the crapper, they knew it was a person they needed to oppress.

Do try to focus." "Well, I do try. I simply fail.

Yet the misery did lessen around others, and it required Kaladin to keep up a semblance. To pretend. It might be a front, but he'd found that sometimes the front worked even on himself.

I want control," she said, opening her eyes. "Not like a king or anything. I just want to be able to control it, a little. My life. I don't want to get shoved around, by people or by fate or whatever. I just ... I want it to be me who chooses.

You never know how much you'll like something until you try it out.

You have an odd sense of morality, mistress." "Don't be stupid," she said. "Every sense of morality is odd.

If you toss a kid into a lions den, can you really blame the lion?

The life of a person is more than the chaos of its passing.

Traitors." "People," Marsh said. "People who were just trying to do the best with what life gave them." "Well, I'm just doing the same thing," Kelsier said. "And, fortunately, life gave me the ability to push men like them off the tops of buildings.

Breath. A man's breath was his life. Exhaled, bit by bit, back into the world. Kaladin breathed deeply, eyes closed, and for a time that was all he could hear. His own life. In, out, to the beating of the thunder in his chest. Breath. His own little storm.

In space, you don't really fly. You just don't fall.

Heroism is often the seemingly spontaneous result of a lifetime of preparation.

She wore trousers, because skirts were stupid, and boots, 'cuz stuff needed to be kicked.

Empathy is an emotional loss leader. It pays for itself eventually.

You're a mean old man, Your Grace." "And that is the way it should be." Roial informed. "Mean young men are trivial, and kindly old men boring. Here, let me get us something to drink.

Run. Flee. I'll chase you. I will never stop. I am eternal. I am the storm.

Then why do you have guns?" "For shooting large and dangerous beasts who might be threatening my fungus specimens", M-Bot said. "Obviously.

I'm an expert on one-armed Herdazian jokes. 'Lopen,' my mother always says, 'you must learn these to laugh before others do. Then you steal the laughter from them, and have it all for yourself.

It had been eight years. The pain of loss was still there. It never went away. It just got buried in time, like a rock slowly being covered over by dirt.

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.

The day had finally arrived, a day I'd been awaiting for ten years. A glorious day, a momentous day, a day of import and distinction. It was time to buy a hot dog.