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Wit nodded. “I’m afraid it’s going to get worse, Kaladin. I’m sorry.” “Worse than this?” “Unfortunately.” “I’m not strong enough, Wit,” Kaladin whispered. “It has all been a lie. I’ve never been strong enough.” Wit took a bite of his stew, then nodded. “You … agree?” Kaladin asked. “You know better than I what your limits are,” Wit said. “It’s not such a terrible thing, to be too weak. Makes us need one another.
“Mmm…” Pattern said from beside the door, where he was watching for Adolin. “What?” Radiant asked him. “You like irony now too?” “Irony tastes good. Like sausage.” “And have you ever tasted sausage?” “I don’t believe I have a sense of taste,” Pattern said. “So irony tastes like what I imagine sausage would taste like when I’m imagining tastes.” Radiant rubbed her forehead,
