The Way of Kings (The Stormlight Archive, #1)

by Brandon Sanderson

But expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.

“All right. First, find a cliff.” “That, it will give you a vantage to see the area?” “No,” Kaladin said. “It will give me something to throw you off of.”

Over the last few days, the hills had given way to uneven rock formations—places where weathering winds had left behind crumbling cliffs and jagged shapes. Grass grew up the rocky sides that saw the most sun, and other plants were plentiful in the shade. The time right after a highstorm was when the land was most alive. Rockbud polyps split and sent out their vines. Other kinds of vine crept from crevices, licking up water. Leaves unfolded from shrubs and trees. Cremlings of all kinds slithered through puddles, enjoying the banquet. Insects buzzed into the air; larger crustaceans—crabs and leggers—left their hiding places. The very rocks seemed to come to life.

enormous craterlike rock formations, only the sides were more irregular, more jagged. Like broken eggshells.

“Well, I myself find that respect is like manure. Use it where needed, and growth will flourish. Spread it on too thick, and things just start to smell.”

“You learned this,” Kabsal said, lifting up her drawing of Jasnah, “from a book.” “Er … yes?” He looked back at the picture. “I need to read more.”

I have a feeling this will be important later

This Wit had a strange air about him that Dalinar couldn’t quite place.

I feel like this is Hoid

Each man has his place. Mine is to make insults. Yours is to be in-sluts.”

i giggled

the scents of evening: blooming rockbuds and wet stone.

It was a soft thing, his grief. A shake here. A few persistent tears, slipping down his cheeks.

And this is a good thing? Kal thought, another tear trickling down his cheek. You have to learn when to care … and when to let go. … In the distance, Harl continued to wail.

He’d been burned too often to trust the flame.

Renarin had a habit of doing that, felling conversations like an enemy archer hunting officers on the battlefield.

me too bud

Kaladin glanced at his shoulder, frowning at Syl. She sat primly, legs crossed and hands folded atop her knee, pointedly not looking at him.

i love her sm

Likely this newcomer didn’t believe the reputation of Makkek’s phantom assassin. Well, he had reason to be skeptical. Szeth’s reputation was inaccurate. He was far, far more dangerous than it suggested.

badass

To be young is about action. To be a scholar is about informed action.”

“Ah, the outdoors,” Shallan said. “I visited that mythical place once. It was so very long ago, I’ve nearly forgotten it. Tell me, does the sun still shine, or is that just my dreamy recollection?”

listen some of the shallan bits are a wee bit boring but her sarcasm makes up for it

“My wit is on temporary hiatus, Brightness,” she said. “Pending review by its colleagues, sincerity and temerity.”

i've said it so many times but I LOVE HER SARCASM

“No, my friend,” Wit said, standing up. “I’ve abandoned my real name. But when next we meet, I’ll think of a clever one for you to call me. Until then, Wit will suffice—or if you must, you may call me Hoid.

I WAS RIGHT!!!!!