Alyssa

“Merciful moons," Tress whispered. "That almost makes me fell sorry for her."
"Yes, well, most terrible mass murderers like Crow do tend to be well acquainted with tragedy. It makes you wonder who the true monster is: the killer or the society that created them?"
Tress nodded.
"That was a trick question," Ulaam said. "The true monster is the one in that drawer next to you. I gave it seven different faces."
Tress glanced at the drawer in the small end table beside her seat. It rattled. She pretended not to notice.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

“Memory is often our only connection to who we used to be. Memories are fossils, the bones left by dead versions of ourselves. More potently, our minds are a hungry audience, craving only the peaks and valleys of experience. The bland erodes, leaving behind the distinctive bits to be remembered again and again. Painful or passionate, surreal or sublime, we cherish those little rocks of peak experience, polishing them with the ever-smoothing touch of recycled proxy living. In so doing—like pagans praying to a sculpted mud figure—we make of our memories the gods which judge our current lives.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

“he was six and a half feet tall and had a jaw so straight it made other men question if they were.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

“You can’t taste a memory without tainting it with who you have become.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea