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

by Brandon Sanderson

One cannot apply logic as an absolute where human beings are concerned. We are not beings of thought only.

“Now,” she said, “you were right to compare the mind and the stomach.” “But—” “Too many of us,” she said, “take great pains with what we ingest through our mouths, and far less with what we partake of through our ears and eyes. Wouldn’t you say?”

The body needs many different foods to remain healthy. And the mind needs many different ideas to remain sharp.

The hallmark of insecurity is bravado.

“Sometimes,” Dalinar said, “the prize is not worth the costs. The means by which we achieve victory are as important as the victory itself.”

I once saw a spindly man carrying a stone larger than his head upon his back, the passage went. He stumbled beneath the weight, shirtless under the sun, wearing only a loincloth. He tottered down a busy thoroughfare. People made way for him. Not because they sympathized with him, but because they feared the momentum of his steps. You dare not impede one such as this. The monarch is like this man, stumbling along, the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. Many give way before him, but so few are willing to step in and help carry the stone. They do not wish to attach themselves to the work, lest they condemn themselves to a life full of extra burdens.

A man’s emotions are what define him, and control is the hallmark of true strength. To lack feeling is to be dead, but to act on every feeling is to be a child.”

Does one deserve to have evil done to her by consequence of putting herself where evil can reach her?

Death is the destination. But the journey, that is life. That is what matters.

“The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think, but to give you questions to think upon.

‘And so, does the destination matter? Or is it the path we take? I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it. We are not creatures of destinations. It is the journey that shapes us. Our callused feet, our backs strong from carrying the weight of our travels, our eyes open with the fresh delight of experiences lived.