Bozsó

“No one is now what they were before the war. There’s just no getting any of it back.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“At first glance, the key and the lock it fits may seem very different," Sazed said. "Different in shape, different in function, different in design. The man who looks at them without knowledge of their true nature might think them opposites, for one is meant to open, and the other to keep closed. Yet, upon closer examination he might see that without one, the other becomes useless. The wise man then sees that both lock and key were created for the same purpose.”
― Brandon Sanderson, The Well of Ascension

“You look like a winter night", he had told her when he had given it to her. "I could sleep inside the cold of you.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“Breeze strolled over to the table and chose a seat with his characteristic decorum. The portly man raised his dueling cane, pointing it at Ham. 'I see that my period of intellectual respite has come to an end.'

Ham smiled. 'I thought up a couple beastly questions while I was gone, and I've been saving them just for you, Breeze.'

'I'm dying of anticipation,' Breeze said. He turned his cane toward Lestibournes. 'Spook, drink.'

Spook rushed over and fetched Breeze a cup of wine.

'He's such a fine lad,' Breeze noted, accepting the drink. 'I barely even have to nudge him Allomantically. If only the rest of you ruffians were so accommodating.'

Spook frowned. 'Niceing the not on the playing without.'

'I have no idea what you just said, child,' Breeze said. 'So I'm simply going to pretend it was coherent, then move on.'

Kelsier rolled his eyes. 'Losing the stress on the nip,' he said. 'Notting without the needing of care.'

'Riding the rile of the rids to the right,' Spook said with a nod.

'What are you two babbling about?' Breeze said testily.

'Wasing the was of brightness,' Spook said. 'Nip the having of wishing of this.'

'Ever wasing the doing of this,' Kelsier agreed.

'Ever wasing the wish of having the have,' Ham added with a smile. 'Brighting the wish of wasing the not.'

Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. 'I believe our companions have finally lost their minds, dear friend.'

Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, 'Wasing not of wasing is.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Mistborn: The Final Empire