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Kindle Notes & Highlights
But wine was the great assassin of both tradition and propriety,
But when weapons created to fight nightmares were turned against common soldiers, the lives of men became cheap things indeed.
Words aren’t meant to be kept inside, you see. They are free creatures, and if locked away will unsettle the stomach.”
I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it.
For the substance of our existence is not in the achievement, but in the method.
“The sorrow,” Shallan said softly, “of watching a life crumble? Of struggling to grab it and hold on, but feeling hope become stringy sinew and blood beneath your fingers as everything collapses?”
“The sensation—it’s not sorrow, but something deeper—of being broken. Of being crushed so often, and so hatefully, that emotion becomes something you can only wish for. If only you could cry, because then you’d feel something. Instead, you feel nothing. Just . . . haze and smoke inside. Like you’re already dead.”
To age truly was to suffer the ultimate treason, that of one’s body against oneself.
Jasnah had once defined a fool as a person who ignored information because it disagreed with desired results.
“If I protect . . . only the people I like, it means that I don’t care about doing what is right.”
