The Way of Kings (The Stormlight Archive, #1)

by Brandon Sanderson

nodded his thanks to the bridgemen. They were the lowest in the army, and yet they bore the weight of kings.

A woman wanting to come to the battlefield was like … well, like a man wanting to read. Unnatural.

“Money is behind every war,” Au-nak continued. “Religion is but an excuse. Or perhaps a justification.”

“An excuse is what you make after the deed is done, while a justification is what you offer before.”

“What you saw belongs to you. A story doesn’t live until it is imagined in someone’s mind.”

“The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think, but to give you questions to think upon. Too often, we forget that.”

“Storm it, we have to go back.” He turned to the members of Bridge Four. One by one, they nodded. Men who had been the dregs of the army just months before—men who had once cared for nothing but their own skins—took deep breaths, tossed away thoughts for their own safety, and nodded. They would follow him.

That realization rocked him. He found himself respecting the Parshendi as he killed them.

“Throw him off cliff,” Rock said. “What good will that do?” Peet asked. Rock shrugged. “If he has other abilities, this thing will make them come out, eh? Nothing like falling from cliff to make a man out of a boy!” Kaladin regarded him with a sour expression, and Rock laughed. “It will be small cliff.” He held up his thumb and forefinger to indicate a tiny amount. “I like you too much for large one.”

Twenty-seven men lived. He’d finally managed to save someone. For now, that was enough.

“I am … I was … God. The one you call the Almighty, the creator of mankind.” The figure closed his eyes. “And now I am dead.