Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive, #4)

by Brandon Sanderson

“They can be guided,” Raboniel said. She glanced at Venli, then smiled again, humming her new rhythm. Her individual dangerous rhythm. “If there is one thing I can guarantee you about humankind, Last Listener, it is this: Provide them with a sword, and they will find a way to impale themselves upon it.”

“Fine,” Navani said. “I hope when you die—knowing your homeland is doomed, your families enslaved, your queen executed—you feel satisfied knowing that at least you maintained a slight market advantage.”

“Ideas are not useless simply because they involve religious thinking,” Jasnah said. “Nearly all of the ancient scholars I revere were religious, and I appreciate how their faith shaped them, even if I do not appreciate the faith itself.”

Taravangian awoke late in the day. He barely remembered falling asleep. He barely … could … Could barely … think. He was stupid. Stupider than he’d ever been before. That made him weep. Stupid weeping.