Kaustubh Dudhane > Recent Status Updates

Every sense of morality is odd.

The difference between a successful thief and a dead thief is knowing when to escape with your takings.

"And when he opened his eyes, the sky exploded with a thousand pure lights."

I think I need a drink and a packet of cigarettes to calm myself down.😭

Some people charged toward the goal, running for all they had. Others stumbled. But it wasn't the speed that mattered.
It was the direction they were going. 😊

Music, at its most fundamental level, was math.

To enjoy easy days, sometimes you had to first do difficult things.

"There are no fair fights, Jasnah," Wit said. "There's never been such a thing. The term is a lie used to impose imaginary order on something chaotic. Two men of the same height, age, and weapon will not fight one another fairly, for one will always have the advantage in training, talent, or simple luck."

Science seemed easy in retrospect.

The quickest changes in history often happen during times of strife,...

You need someone to talk to, Noril, when the darkness is strong. Someone to remind you the world hasn't always been this way; that it won't always be this way.

No army, no matter how clean its reputation, walked away from war untainted. And no leader, no matter how noble, could help but sink into the crem when he stepped into the game of conquest.

"This," Dalinar said, "is what war does to all of us. It chews us up and spits us out mangled."

... the more Kaladin fought these creatures, the more he respected their ways. He hadn't expected to find honor among the enemy.

'Isn't that the way of the world?' she said. 'We want the sweet things, but we need the unpleasant ones.'

That's why stories appeal to us. They give us the clarity and simplicity our real lives lack.

Fear tends to come from ignorance. Once I knew what the problem was, it was just a problem, nothing to fear. 😊

Bones mend. Regret stays with you forever.

Everyone knows one story, I thought. Everyone knows at least one. 😥

Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds posses is the ability to cope with pain.

A poet is a musician who can't sing. 😂

In some ways, it began when I heard her singing. Her voice twinning, mixing with my own. Her voice was like a portrait of her soul: wild as a fire, sharp as shattered glass, sweet and clean as clover.

Sometimes you accept deals you don’t want, because they’re better than the alternative.

Wholeness, she had learned, was not the absence of pain but the ability to hold it.

“No,‘watch your head,’” Robin said. “Kisee bhee cheez par apana sir mat maaro. Don’t hit your head on anything.”

Hindi😱

You’re a Matsuda. The impossible is a day at the dojo for you.

In the bunker, the screams, the pulsing blood, and the gunfire had drowned each other out, smothering her in a daze. Here, there was no fluid crawl of blood or dribble of tears to consume Misaki’s attention; this blood had frozen into something solid and irrefutable.

She might not be worthy of belonging to this family, but she was going to protect it with every bit of venom, and bloodlust, and underhanded trickery in her.

If Tou-sama was a paragon of Matsuda precision, Uncle Takashi was the embodiment of Matsuda power. 😊

But after all these years, Misaki still studied her husband the way one studies an animal from afar. Searching. Searching for understanding or common ground. Never quite finding a connection.

“I like how I can feel the sun simmering on the horizon even before it comes into view. I like the moment it lights up the fog and then burns through it. That brightness reminds me that there’s a world beyond this mountain, beyond Kaigen. No matter how cold the nights get here, the sun is rising somewhere. Somewhere, it’s making someone warm.” 🌞