The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn, #6)

by Brandon Sanderson

With her hair braided and her makeup done by a professional for the occasion, she was actually quite pretty.

"Actually quite pretty" is so devastating

“Marasi says you’re courtin’ another girl.” “… I am.” Wayne nodded. “Now, I don’t want to go wrong, seein’ as I’m being so gentlemanly and grown-up and the like. But you can’t blame a man for gettin’ ideas when hearing something such as that. So … I don’t suppose that there’s a chance for the three of us to—”

Ew

“I don’t mind none if she’s fat, Ranette. I likes a girl what has something to hold on to.” “Wayne.”

Wayne, literally stop.

Survivorism therefore was not about winning, but about lasting as long as you could before you lost.

She proceeded to vomit all over the table.

Do Your Metal Tools Speak to You? Your neighbors probably don’t want to hear about it. But WE do!

“What did those two women do in there?” “Maybe they—” “I don’t want to hear your guess,” Wax said. “Really.”

Figures. A woman would have to change outfits for this. Can’t infiltrate a remote, ancient temple without properly accessorizing.

“I just had my long-held assumptions about someone shattered in a brief moment. I’m wondering if every person I pass has similar depths, and if there’s any way to avoid the mistake of judging them so shallowly that I’m rocked when they show their true complexity.

Do sisters ever really get sexy with one another for a fellow to watch, or does that only happen in pub songs?”

Ew