Words of Radiance (The Stormlight Archive, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

“Is it terribly difficult for you?” he asked softly. “Living with the rest of us, suffering our average wits and simple thoughts? Is it lonely to be so singular in your brilliance, Jasnah?”

“You’re starting to sound a lot like my mother.” “Captivating?” Syl said. “Amazing, witty, meaningful?” “Repetitive.” “Captivating?” Syl said. “Amazing, witty, meaningful?”

She pointedly ignored the voice deep within her that was screaming in horror.

“I ain’t grouchy,” Teft snapped. “I just have a low threshold for stupidity.”

Keep cutting at those thorns, strong one, and make a path for the light. The things you fight aren’t completely natural.”

also, they were the most articulate and refined of the Radiants.

Lol

One can’t just pretend that a word is symmetrical when it isn’t!”

She couldn’t afford to come off as weak. She had to control the situation, could not act like a sycophant, and she couldn’t— Adolin saw her and closed the portfolio. He stood up, grinning. —oh, storms. That smile.

“The Almighty save a man when his female relatives collude about his future,”

“What if you need to poop?” she asked instead.

“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.”

“I’m sure you were quite brave.” “Quite.” “Though probably not as brave as the poor men who have to clean your armor.”

“No. Sorry. I’m kind of useless at anything that doesn’t involve someone getting stabbed.” She smiled at him. “Nonsense. You proved skilled at choosing wine.” “I did that basically at random.” “And it tastes delicious,” Shallan said. “Empirical proof of your methodology.

“I’m sure you can protect me.” He looked at her, expectant. “What?” Shallan asked. “I’m waiting for a wisecrack.” “I was serious,” Shallan said. “With you there, I’m certain the Parshendi wouldn’t dare get close.” Adolin smiled. “I mean,” she said, “the stench alone—” “I suspect I’m never going to live down telling you about that.” “Never,” Shallan agreed. “You were honest, detailed, and engaging. Those aren’t the sorts of things I let myself forget about a man.”

“It’s unnatural,” Kaladin said. “No. I could never be involved in anything unnatural. It’s just . . . extranatural.” “You mean supernatural.” “No I don’t.” She laughed and zipped on ahead of him.

“I’ll fight you and whomever you bring, together.”

“That was a joke, bridgeboy.” “My mistake. I was under the impression that jokes were supposed to be funny.”

“You know, I’m working very hard to come up with engaging, clever, meaningful points of interest to offer you. I can’t help thinking you’re not upholding your side of the conversation.

What, you think I’d torment someone just because they were deaf? That would be immoral. No, I torment all people equally, thank you very much.”

“I’m fairly busy, though. I mean, insulting Adolin alone is going to take until sometime next week.”

“Wow,” Syl’s voice said. “You’re supposed to harness the storms, Kaladin. Not carry them about behind your eyes.”

My time as a bridgeman was the worst in my life. We suffered death, oppression, indignity. Yet I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alive as I did in those final weeks.”

She had captured him, fair and square. She’d used words.

“What’s your name?” she asked. “Gawx.” “Wow. Well then, Gaw. I don’t talk to myself because I’m crazy.” “No?” “I do it because I’m awesome.”

I might need to help.” “Why bother?” Why indeed? “Someone has to care,” she said, starting down the hallway. “Too few people care, these days.”

For once, he showed an emotion. Bafflement.

“Desks are for boring people,” Shallan said. “And for people who don’t have a squishy bed.”

“Then consider this your duty. Guard this room.” “I’ll make sure nobody unauthorized runs off with the chamber pot, sir.”

Yes, I agree with everything you have said about Rayse, including the severe danger he presents.

“I’m not some glorious knight of ancient days. I’m a broken man. Do you hear me, Syl? I’m broken.” She zipped up to him and whispered, “That’s what they all were, silly.”

“I thought you had full requisition right from my father’s stables.” “I have full requisition right from the quartermasters too,” Kaladin said, “but you don’t see me hiking out here with a cauldron on my back just because I can.”

“You won’t have a Shardblade, but won’t need one, because of . . . you know.” “I know?” Kaladin felt a spike of alarm. “Yeah . . . you know.” Adolin glanced away and shrugged, as if trying to act nonchalant. “That thing.” “What thing?” “The thing . . . with the . . . um, stuff?”

Trust me.” Adolin met his eyes. “Oddly, I do. Trust you, I mean. It’s a very strange sensation.” “Yeah, well, I’ll try to hold myself back from going skipping across the plateau in joy.” Adolin grinned. “I’d pay to see that.” “Me skipping?” “You happy,”

“She probably saw an interesting bug.” “No, it’s moss!” Shallan called back. “Ah, of course,” Adolin said, strolling over, Kaladin following. “Moss. So exciting.”

“You’re good at military thinking, for a bridgeboy,” Adolin said. “Coincidentally,” Kaladin said, “you’re good at not being unobnoxious, for a prince.” “Thanks,” Adolin said. “That was an insult, dear,” Shallan said. “What?” Adolin said. “It was?”

He was annoying, but he was also there.

“Please,” she whispered, sounding more frantic. “Don’t leave me down in these chasms alone.” He smiled wryly. “Is it really this hard for you to let me win one single argument?”

“Apologize to Adolin for me. I actually kind of like him. He’s a good man. Not just for a lighteyes. Just . . . a good person. I’ve never given him the credit he deserves.”

“One future daughter-in-law,” Kaladin said, “delivered safe and sound. Sorry about the damage done to the packaging.”

“I’ve been searching for you, haven’t I?” Dalinar said. “All this time, without seeing it.”

“Shallan, if you’d seen a live one, you’d have surely been killed!” “Almost surely.”

“You’re a very special kind of weird, Lopen.” “Of course I am, gon. There’s only one of me.”

“You want to get a palanquin?” Lopen asked. “Those are for women.” “Ain’t nothing wrong with being a woman, gancho,” Lopen said. “Some of my relatives are women.”

“Technically,” she said, “a man doesn’t need all of his toes. Shall we remove a few of yours and prove it?”

He was. Like the wind and rocks were.

Jasnah had once defined a fool as a person who ignored information because it disagreed with desired results.

That girl never did have the decency to be wrong an appropriate amount of the time.”

“We can’t all be emotionless chunks of rock like Jasnah.” Navani smiled. “She sometimes had the empathy of a corpse, didn’t she?” “Comes from being too brilliant,” Shallan said. “You grow accustomed to everyone else being something of an idiot, trying to keep up with you.”

“Choose the option,” Zahel said, rearranging his pillow, “that makes it easiest for you to sleep at night.”

“Don’t abandon us,” Dalinar said, voice trailing off. “Please . .