Words of Radiance (The Stormlight Archive, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

‘Think of a man who gets angry often. Think of how his friends and family might start referring to that anger as a beast, as a thing that possesses him, as something external to him. Humans personify. We speak of the wind as if it has a will of its own. ‘Spren are those ideas – the ideas of collective human experience – somehow come alive. Shadesmar is where that first happens, and it is their place. Though we created it, they shaped it. They live there; they rule there, within their own cities.’

This is insane

‘You say I have wealth. This is true, but you have also seen that I do not often use it. You say I have authority as the sister of a king. I do. And yet, the men of this ship would treat me exactly the same way if I were a beggar who had convinced them I was the sister to a king. In that case, my authority is not a real thing. It is mere vapors – an illusion. I can create that illusion for them, as can you.’

Brandon Sanderson is a philosopher too apparently

Do not let your assumptions about a culture block your ability to perceive the individual, or you will fail.’

Kaladin knelt, struggling with his grief. You have to learn when to care, son. His father’s voice. And when to let go. You’ll grow calluses. He never had. Storm him, he never had. It was why he’d never made a good surgeon. He couldn’t lose patients.

‘Difficult things,’ Shallan growled. ‘Yes. I believe I told you. I’ve learned that lesson already. Thank you.’

‘Well, he said that he’d needed, uh, I had this remembered for you. He said, “I needed an objective frame of reference by which to judge the experience of your company. Somewhere between four and five blows, I place it.” I don’t rightly understand what he meant, sir. I think he was mocking me.’ ‘Safe bet.’

‘So yes, I, Adolin Kholin – cousin to the king, heir to the Kholin princedom – have shat myself in my Shardplate. Three times, all on purpose.’

He listened to them both laughing, and wanted to punch them in the face.

Saltiest person in existence

‘What has happened to us?’ Dalinar asked. ‘Where is our honor?’ ‘Honor is dead,’ a voice whispered from beside him. Dalinar turned and looked at Captain Kaladin. He hadn’t noticed the bridgeman walking down the steps behind him. Kaladin took a deep breath, then looked at Dalinar. ‘But I’ll see what I can do. If this goes poorly, take care of my men.’ Spear in hand, he grabbed the edge of the wall and flung himself over, dropping to the sands of the arena floor below.

‘Well done,’ Wyndle said. ‘We’ll make an Edgedancer out of you yet.’