The Hero of Ages (Mistborn, #3)

by Brandon Sanderson

After all, that was his job. The title of emperor carried with it only a single duty. To make everything better.

“There has to be a balance, Vin,” he said. “Somehow we’ll find it. The balance between who we wish to be and who we need to be.” He sighed. “But for now,” he said, looking to the canal, “we have to be satisfied with who we are.”

You have to admit that you’re unusual, Vin. You’re some strange mixture of a noblewoman, a street urchin, and a cat. Plus you’ve managed—in our short three years together—to kill not only my god, but my father, my brother, and my fiancée.

“A man is what he has passion about,” Breeze said. “I’ve found that if you give up what you want most for what you think you should want more, you’ll just end up miserable.”

Good men will kill as quickly for what they want as evil men—only the things they want are different.”

How did men believe in something that preached love on one hand, yet taught destruction of unbelievers on the other? How did one rationalize belief with the lack of proof? How could they honestly expect him to have faith in something that taught of miracles and wonders in the far past, but carefully gave excuses for why such things didn’t occur in the present day?

You realize the power I have, the destruction I represent? I am mountains that crush. I am waves that crash. I am storms that shatter. I am the end.”