Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn, #1)

by Brandon Sanderson

If men read these words, let them know that power is a heavy burden. Seek not to be bound by its chains.

“How do you ‘accidentally’ kill a nobleman in his own mansion?”

“With a knife in the chest,” Kelsier said lightly. “Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest—it always pays to be careful.”

“But, you weren’t born an aristocrat. You’re not noble, Vin. You don’t have to play by their rules—and that makes you even more powerful.”

“Kell and his cursed sense of drama.”

“You should try not to talk so much, friend,” he suggested. “You’ll sound far less stupid that way.”

“The trick is to never stop looking. There’s always another secret.”

“So, the Pits really did drive you insane, eh?” “Completely,” Kelsier said with a straight face.

“Because,” Clubs said, standing. “The Lord’s going to get me sooner or later. At least this way, I’ll be able to spit in his face as I go.

The dark city at night was a place for the desperate and the foolhardy; it was a land of swirling mystery and strange creatures.

“Ups in the where above with the doing. With Master Jumps to the third floor. Uh, I’ve gotta go.”

“My dear friend,” Breeze replied, “the entire point of life is to find ways to get others to do your work for you. Don’t you know anything about basic economics?”

“People,” Marsh said. “People who were just trying to do the best with what life gave them.”

“Ah,” Kelsier said, “but being an annoyance is something that I am very good at. In fact, I’m far more than just a ‘mild’ annoyance—people tell me I can be downright frustrating. Might as well use this talent for the cause of good, eh?”

“I…assumed that I’d have to earn this somehow.” “What’s there to earn?” Kelsier said, pulling out his own cloak. “This is who you are, Vin.”

“You trusted me enough to jump off the top of the wall, and I caught you. You’re going to have to trust me this time too.”

“Yes,” Sazed said. “Tell me, Mistress. What is it that you believe?” Vin frowned. “What kind of question is that?” “The most important kind, I think.”

“That depends. The right belief is like a good cloak, I think. If it fits you well, it keeps you warm and safe. The wrong fit, however, can suffocate.”

Trell.

stormlight? Name is familiar

People are valuable, Mistress Vin, and so—therefore—are their beliefs.

“The Lord Ruler is not our god,” he said quietly. “And he cannot kill me. He tried, but he failed. For I am the thing that he can never kill.”

Kelsier raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly sure yet,” he admitted. “But overthrowing the Final Empire seems like a good start. Are there any religions on your list that include the slaughter of noblemen as a holy duty?”

No, this one isn’t weak, Kelsier thought. No matter what she’d have you believe.

“The best liars are those who tell the truth most of the time.”

Kelsier shook his head. “I decided that I’d see her dream fulfilled. I’d make a world where flowers returned, a world with green plants, a world where no soot fell from the sky….” He trailed off, then sighed. “I know. I’m insane.”

“Women are like…thunderstorms. They’re beautiful to look at, and sometimes they’re nice to listen to—but most of

the time they’re just plain inconvenient.”

Let them see my weakness, and let them see me overcome it.

Plots behind plots, plans beyond plans. There was always another secret.

The Lord Ruler was far more whiny than any god had a right to be.

“We needed the drop off some more weapons,” Spook said, struggling to speak without his dialect. “Storing them here for a while.”

Honestly, for an evil god of darkness, he certainly can be dull.

Friends. I have friends. It was an odd realization.

“But, what is money? A physical representation of the abstract concept of effort.

Kelsier rolled his eyes. “Losing the stress on the nip,” he said. “Notting without the needing of care.”

“Riding the rile of the rids to the right,” Spook said with a nod. “What are you two babbling about?” Breeze said testily. “Wasing the was of brightness,” Spook said. “Nip the having of wishing of this.” “Ever wasing the doing of this,” Kelsier agreed. “Ever wasing the wish of having the have,” Ham added with a smile. “Brighting the wish of wasing the not.” Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. “I believe our companions have finally lost their minds, dear friend.” Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, “Wasing not of wasing is.”

However, lucidity was not currently one of her virtues.

He forced himself to smile—not out of pleasure, and not out of satisfaction. He smiled despite the grief he felt at the deaths of his men; he smiled because that was what he did. That was how he proved to the Lord Ruler—and to himself—that he wasn’t

beaten.

“If you’re always on time, it implies that you never have anything better you should be doing.

That’s the difference between you and them, Elend, he thought. Those philosophers you read—they were revolutionaries. They were willing to risk execution. You can’t even stand up to your father.

Reminds me of warbreaker

“Oh, they had leaders, Master Kelsier,” Sazed said. “Dead ones, true, but leaders nonetheless.”

“Men are more resilient than that, I think. Our belief is often strongest when it should be weakest. That is the nature of hope.”

“No. Thanks, Saze. I just needed to be reminded that there were people who fought even when things looked hopeless.”

Is Kliss a kandra?

“You don’t stop loving someone just because they hurt you,” he said. “It would certainly make things easier if you did.”

From the earring?

“I don’t know,” Vin said. “Once, maybe I would have thought you a fool, but…well, that’s kind of what trust is, isn’t it? A willful self-delusion? You have to shut out that voice that whispers about betrayal, and just hope that your friends aren’t going to hurt you.”

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