Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive, #4)

by Brandon Sanderson

“Heroism is a myth you tell idealistic young people—specifically when you want them to go bleed for you. It got one of my sons killed and another taken from me. You can keep your heroism and return to me the lives of those wasted on foolish conflicts.”

Maybe everything was random chaos, and she pretended the world made sense for her own peace of mind.

There’s no dishonor in taking a step away to recover.

Every honor he’d been given seemed to highlight how vacant his life really was. Titles couldn’t fill a room with life.

When Kaladin was in moods like this, he felt that he would bring only darkness to those around him. Why would they want to be with him? He wouldn’t want to be with him.

Kaladin embraced his friend. One final, crushing Horneater hug. When they pulled apart, Rock was crying, but smiling. “You gave me back my life,” he said. “Thank you for that, Kaladin, bridgeleader. Do not be sad that now I choose to live that life.”

“I’m not confident anyone knows the answers. I figure I’ll let the people who care argue about it, and I’ll keep my head down and focus on my life right now.”

“He’s different, isn’t he?” Syl said. “Worse, because his own mind fights against him.” “Different, yes,” Dalinar said, leaning on the railing next to her. “But who is to say what is worse or better? We each have our own Voidbringers to slay, Brightness Sylphrena. No man can judge another man’s heart or trials, for no man can truly know them.”

“I know how you feel. Dark, like there’s never been light in the world. Like everything in you is a void, and you wish you could just feel something. Anything. Pain would at least tell you you’re alive.

“You just want to stop existing,” Kaladin said. “You don’t want to actually kill yourself, not on most days. But you figure it sure would be convenient if you weren’t around anymore.”

You need someone to talk to, Noril, when the darkness is strong. Someone to remind you the world hasn’t always been this way; that it won’t always be this way.”

I don’t think I’d ever realized, until that moment, that a person could be beautiful and ugly at the same time.

“We need both heart and mind,” Lirin said. “The heart might provide the purpose, but the head provides the method, the path. Passion is nothing without a plan. Wanting something doesn’t make it happen.

“If there is a god, then I think we could find him in the way we care about one another.

He couldn’t do much about his situation, or the cracks that were ever widening inside him. But he could stay busy, and in so doing, not let those cracks define him.

“It won’t be like that for me,” Kaladin said. “You told me it would get worse.” “It will,” Wit said, “but then it will get better. Then it will get worse again. Then better. This is life, and I will not lie by saying every day will be sunshine. But there will be sunshine again, and that is a very different thing to say. That is truth. I promise you, Kaladin: You will be warm again.”

Dabbid wasn’t Radiant. He wasn’t brave. He wasn’t smart. But today he hadn’t been stupid either. Once, Kaladin had pulled Dabbid out of Damnation itself. It felt good to return that act of heroism with a small one of his own.

What was a god who only made demands? Nothing but a tyrant with a different name.

“Men hold grudges. It is one of our greatest failings.

People may not be perfect, but they’re worth helping strive for perfection. And you are worth more than you can ever be sitting alone and refusing to grow.”

“Since we all go to the same place in the end, the moments we spent with each other are the only things that do matter. The times we helped each other.”

If you think letting Teft die is a failure—but all the times you supported him are meaningless—then no wonder it always hurts. Instead, if you think of how lucky you both were to be able to help each other when you were together, well, it looks a lot nicer, doesn’t it?”

The energy surged through her so fully, she felt it bursting from her eyes and mouth as she looked up at Moash and spoke. “Journey before destination, you bastard.”

“We won’t stop missing him, will we?” she asked softly. “No. But that’s all right. So long as we cling to the moments we had.”

Few men have the wisdom to realize when they need help. Fewer still have the strength to go get it.