“I just won’t be anywhere I can cause harm,” Kaladin whispered. “Because I’m broken.” Dalinar took him by the shoulder once more, then raised his other hand, holding up a finger, as if to force Kaladin to focus on it. “This,” Dalinar said, “is what war does to all of us. It chews us up and spits us out mangled. There’s no dishonor in taking a step away to recover. No more than there’s dishonor in giving yourself time to heal from a stab wound.”
