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“Mmmm,” Pattern said. “I do not like being stabbed.”
“I have no choice.” Really? Didn’t you tell me you spent a thousand years following the instructions of a rock?
“You followed men before,” Nin continued. “They caused your pain, Szeth-son-Neturo. Your agony is because you did not follow something unchanging and pure. You picked men instead of an ideal.”
“Or,” Szeth said, “perhaps I was simply forced to follow the wrong men.”
“Our master has given us a task. We shall see it completed.”
A king, for all the fact that he’d never worn a crown. He was the one of the ten who was never supposed to have borne their burden. And he’d borne it the longest anyway.
Stormsstormsstormsstorms.
The most important step a man can take. It’s not the first one, is it? It’s the next one. Always the next step, Dalinar.
“You cannot have my pain.”
“You. Cannot. Have. My. Pain.”
“If I pretend … If I pretend I didn’t do those things, it means that I can’t have grown to become someone else.”
“It cannot be a journey if it doesn’t have a beginning.”
“I will take responsibility for what I have done,” Dalinar whispered. “If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man.”
“I know what you are,” Jasnah said. “You’re my cousin. Family, Renarin. Hold my hand. Run with me.”
“Maybe you don’t have to save anyone, Kaladin. Maybe it’s time for someone to save you.”
He closed his eyes, breathing out, listening to a sudden stillness. And within it a simple, quiet voice. A woman’s voice, so familiar to him.
I forgive you.
“I’m broken.” “Who isn’t? Life breaks us, Teft. Then we fill the cracks with something stronger.”
If the journey itself is indeed the most important piece, rather than the destination itself, then I traveled not to avoid duty—but to seek
“I will not draw the sword,” Szeth said, “unless you are already dead and I decide to accept death myself.”
“Greaaaaaaaaaaat,” Lift said.
“No,” Szeth said. “I am not good at being a person. It is … a failing of mine.”
The little girl with the long hair stopped at the border of the mist, then stepped inside.
“Ten spears go to battle,” he whispered, “and nine shatter. Did that war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break.”
“Your Highness…” Teshav said. “You can’t fight them all.” “There’s nobody else.” He turned to go.
“You’re wondering why I’m smiling,” Renarin said.
Teft. Knight Radiant.
“I think I used up all my Radianting for the day,” Renarin said.
It becomes the responsibility of every man, upon realizing he lacks the truth, to seek it out.
What happened to his boots?
“I used to be able to feel, Szeth-son-Neturo. I used to have compassion. I can remember those days, before…” “The torture?” Szeth asked.
“You must protect the man you once tried to kill, Szeth-son-Neturo.”
“Teshav fed me tea,” she said. “I’ll probably be bouncing off the clouds soon. Don’t get me laughing. I sound like an axehound puppy when I’m hyper.”
“I have to say this, Shallan. Please.” He stood up tall, stiff. “I’m going to let him have you.”
Adolin waved toward him. “Shallan. He can literally fly.”
‘Ladies, you can’t possibly marry a man if he can’t fly.’ Never mind if the other option is as handsome as sin, kind to everyone he meets regardless of their station, passionate about his art, and genuinely humble in the weirdest, most confident way. Never mind if he actually seems to get you, and remarkably listens to your problems, encouraging you to be you—not to hide yourself away. Never mind if being near him makes you want to rip his shirt off and push him into the nearest alleyway, then kiss him until he can’t breathe anymore. If he can’t fly, then well, you just have to call it off!”
Storms, she loved this man.
“But that’s the thing, Shallan. I don’t want anyone. I want you.”
“Don’t feel bad. The Words have to come in their own time. You’ll be all right.” “I always am.”
“I found it on the battlefield below. If you get it wet it changes colors. It looks brown, but with a little water, you can see the white, black, and grey.”
“We lift the bridge together, Teft,” Kaladin said. “And we carry it.”
The final death of Jezrien. Yaezir. Jezerezeh’Elin, king of Heralds. A figure known in myth and lore as the greatest human who had ever lived.
Rua zipped onto Lopen’s shoulder and formed into the shape of a young man, then thrust a hand toward the bridgemen and tried the gesture that Lopen had taught him. “Nice,” Lopen said. “But wrong finger. Nope! Not that one either. Naco, that’s your foot.”
Yes, I began my journey alone, and I ended it alone. But that does not mean that I walked alone.
The ancient code of the Knights Radiant says “journey before destination.” Some may call it a simple platitude, but it is far more. A journey will have pain and failure. It is not only the steps forward that we must accept. It is the stumbles. The trials. The knowledge that we will fail. That we will hurt those around us.
But if we stop, if we accept the person we are when we fall, the journey ends. That failure becomes our destination.
To love the journey is to accept no such end. I have found, through painful experience, that the most important step a person can take is always the next one.
“That’s too bad,” Wit said. He raised the doll to his lips, then whispered a choice set of words.
“Life before death, little one,” Wit whispered.
Allomancy and Feruchemy.
