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

by Brandon Sanderson

Battle was a masculine art. A woman wanting to come to the battlefield was like … well, like a man wanting to read. Unnatural.

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.”

“The Parshendi out here are supposed to be barbarians,” Kaladin said. “Without culture. Where did they get knives like these? I’d swear this is a picture of one of the Heralds. Jezerezeh or Nalan.”

“Shin are a curious folk,” he said. “Here, warriors are the lowliest of men—kind of like slaves. Men trade and sell them between houses by way of little stones that signify ownership, and any man who picks up a weapon must join them and be treated the same. The fellow in the fancy robe? He’s a farmer.”

Iriali were very particular about their chastity laws. They were very particular about a lot of things. Of course, that could be said for most peoples—the only difference was the things they were particular about.

“There is no greatness in killing,” Szeth said. “You speak like a kukori. Great men create food and clothing. He who adds is to be revered. I am he who takes away. At least in the killing of men such as these I can pretend to be doing a service.”

However, one must apply one’s wit with care. You often seem to say the first passably clever thing that enters your mind.”

“Must someone, some unseen thing, declare what is right for it to be right? I believe that my own morality—which answers only to my heart—is more sure and true than the morality of those who do right only because they fear retribution.”

“I think something innate in us understands that seeking the good of society is usually best for the individual as well. Humankind is noble, when we give it the chance to be. That nobility is something that exists independent of any god’s decree.”

“My intention is not to convert, Your Majesty,” Jasnah said. “I am content keeping my beliefs to myself, something most of my colleagues in the devotaries have difficulty doing.

praise should be honest, but it should never be withheld.

“Odd. One would think that your type would be used to believing in fables.”

“He says he’s letting the Stormfather judge you,” Moash added. “Jezerezeh, king of Heralds. He says that if you deserve to live, you will. …” He trailed off. He knew as well as the others that unprotected men didn’t survive highstorms, not like this.

Syl was silent for a moment. “Do you want to be a miracle?” “No,” Kaladin whispered. “But for them, I will be.”

“When we are young,” Jasnah said, “we want simple answers. There is no greater indication of youth, perhaps, than the desire for everything to be as it should. As it has ever been.”

“You’re at an interesting place in your life, Shallan,” Jasnah said, flexing her hand. “You are old enough to wonder, to ask, to reject what is presented to you simply because it was presented to you. But you also cling to the idealism of youth. You feel there must be some single, all-defining Truth—and you think that once you find it, all that once confused you will suddenly make sense.”

A man can say all kinds of things, but where he sets his spheres, that’s where his heart is.”

He felt like one of the ten fools—specifically Cabine, who acted like a child though he was adult.

the Envisagers.

All the Envisagers had were stories and legends. Fool’s tales, Teft had called them. Idle dreams.

And I need to tell the Envisagers, he thought. I need to … The Envisagers were gone. Dead, because of what he had done. If there were others, he had no idea how to locate them.

Stories of instantaneous travel and the Oathgates pervade these tales.

“Somebody has to start. Somebody has to step forward and do what is right, because it is right.

He felt like a wanderer seeking desperately for a pathway into the city to escape wild beasts. But the city was atop a steep mountain, and no matter how he approached, the climb was always the same. Impossible. A hundred different paths. The same result.

Uthilhu

“It’s something the Lost Radiants used to say,” Sigzil said, walking past. Kaladin glanced to the side. The soft-spoken Azish man set a shield on a pile. He looked up, brown skin dark in the torchlight. “It was their motto. Part of it, at least. ‘Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.’

“I just think we’re ignorant,” Teft grumbled. “I don’t like listening to what the lighteyes say about the past. Their women write all the histories, you know.”

Death comes, they whispered. Death comes to all. But life comes first. Cherish it. Death is the destination. But the journey, that is life. That is what matters.

“What is Urithiru?”

“Urithiru was said to be the center of the Silver Kingdoms, a city that held ten thrones, one for each king. It was the most majestic, most amazing, most important city in all the world.” “Really? Why hadn’t I heard of it before?” “Because it was abandoned even before the Lost Radiants turned against mankind. Most scholars consider it just a myth. The ardents refuse to speak of it, due to its association with the Radiants, and therefore with the first major failure of Vorinism. Much of what we know about the city comes from fragments of lost works quoted by classical scholars. Many of those classical works have, themselves, survived only in pieces. Indeed, the single complete work we have from early years is The Way of Kings, and that is only because of the Vanrial’s efforts.”

Aharietiam came, the Last Desolation.

CHILD OF TANAVAST. CHILD OF HONOR. CHILD OF ONE LONG SINCE DEPARTED. The sudden voice shook Kaladin; he floundered in the air. THE OATHPACT WAS SHATTERED

MEN RIDE THE STORMS NO LONGER. The voice was thunder, crashing in the air. THE OATHPACT IS BROKEN, CHILD OF H

ODIUM COMES. MOST DANGEROUS OF ALL THE SIXTEEN. YOU WILL NOW GO

“Why is there so much war? Must we always fight?” He wasn’t sure why he asked. The questions simply came out. The storm rumbled, like a thoughtful aged father. The face vanished, shattering into droplets of water. More softly, the voice answered, ODIUM REIGNS

“Kelek’s breath,”

A lot of the soldiers I knew were superstitious. They’d talk about things like the Old Magic and the Nightwatcher, things that could bring a man bad luck.

“He watches!” the boy hissed. “The black piper in the night. He holds us in his palm … playing a tune that no man can hear!”

Odium

“I would not dedicate four years of my life to such an empty pursuit. It’s idiocy to try to prove a negative. Let the Vorin believe as they wish—the wise among them will find goodness and solace in their faith; the fools would be fools no matter what they believed.”

why Thaidakar would risk this?” Amaram was saying, speaking in a soft voice. “But who else would it be? The Ghostbloods grow more bold. We’ll need to find out who he was. Do we know anything about him?” “He was Veden, Brightlord,” the stormwarden said. “Nobody I recognize. But I will investigate.”

If the Prime Kadasix may provide,

Ashno of Sages himself. One of the richest and holiest men in all of Emul.

the Hallowed Hall, the place where a wealthy man placed images of his Kadasix for reverence. The mistress walked up to the first piece of art. The painting depicted Epan, Lady of Dreams. It was beautiful, a masterpiece of gold leaf on black canvas.

“I’ve been thinking of seeking the Old Magic,” Baxil said, partially to keep himself from cringing as the mistress moved on to gouge out the eyes of a fine bust. Av snorted. “Why?” “I don’t know,” Baxil said. “Seems like something to do with myself. I’ve never sought it, you know, and they say every man gets one chance. Ask a boon of the Nightwatcher. Have you used yours?” “Nah,” Av said. “Don’t fancy making the trip all the way to the Valley. Besides, my brother went. Came back with two numb hands. Never could feel anything with them again.”

“It’s not a game, no matter how the stories try to put it. The Nightwatcher doesn’t trick you or twist your words. You ask a boon. She gives what she feels you deserve, then gives you a curse to go along with it. Sometimes related, sometimes not.”

wonder if they eat in the Cognitive Realm. Is a food there what it sees itself as being? I’ll have to read and see if anyone has ever eaten while visiting Shadesmar.”

“Leadership is rarely about what we want, son. I think too few among the Alethi elite realize that fact.”

Jezerezeh, Kelek, and Ishi, Heralds above. Let me find a way to right this. Please.

“Feverstone Keep.”

“These visions are not in line with what I’ve understood about the Nightwatcher,” Renarin said. “Most consider her to be just some kind of powerful spren. Once you’ve sought her out and been given your reward and your curse, she’s supposed to leave you alone. When did you seek her?”

move like warriors, light on their feet, moving erratically, making it more difficult for the archers to draw a bead on them.