The Well of Ascension (Mistborn, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

Kelsier had, apparently, insisted on laughing, no matter how bad the situation. It had been a form of rebellion to him.

Ham snorted, clapping Breeze on the shoulder—and throwing up a puff of dust. “How can you be tired? Your poor horse did all the running.” “It was emotionally exhausting, Hammond,” Breeze said,

Breeze is a mood.

“Vin isn’t…like other women.” Tindwyl raised an eyebrow, her voice softening slightly. “I think that the more women you come to know, Your Majesty, the more you’ll find that statement applies to all of them.”

Every scholar knew that one of the greatest dangers in research was the desire to find a specific answer.