Akshay Hegde

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Surely You're Jok...
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  (page 62 of 397)
Apr 11, 2020 08:25AM

 
Gardens of the Moon
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Brandon Sanderson
“There are two kinds of people in this world, son. Those who save lives, and those who take lives."
"And what of those who protect and defend? Those who save lives by taking lives?"
"That's like trying to stop a storm by blowing harder. Ridiculous. You can't protect by killing.”
Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings

Brandon Sanderson
“Just because I do not accept the teachings of the devotaries does not mean I've discarded a belief in right and wrong."
"But the Almighty determines what is right!"
"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.”
Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings

Brandon Sanderson
“Authority doesn't come from a rank.," Kaladin said, fingering the spheres in his pocket.
"Where does it come from?"
"From the men who give it to you. That's the only way to get it.”
Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings

Brandon Sanderson
“Every man had to die. He’d always found it odd that so many died when they were old, as logic said that was the point in their lives when they’d had the most practice not dying.”
Brandon Sanderson, Shadows of Self

Brandon Sanderson
“Kaladin screamed, reaching the end of the bridge. Finding a tiny surge of strength somewhere, he raised his spear and threw himself off the end of the wooden platform, launching into the air above the cavernous void.
Bridgemen cried out in dismay. Syl zipped about him with worry. Parshendi looked up with amazement as a lone bridgeman sailed through the air toward them.
His drained, worn-out body barely had any strength left. In that moment of crystallized time, he looked down on his enemies. Parshendi with their marbled red and black skin. Soldiers raising finely crafted weapons, as if to cut him from the sky. Strangers, oddities in carapace breastplates and skullcaps. Many of them wearing beards.
Beards woven with glowing gemstones.
Kaladin breathed in.
Like the power of salvation itself—like rays of sunlight from the eyes of the Almighty—Stormlight exploded from those gemstones. It streamed through the air, pulled in visible streams, like glowing columns of luminescent smoke. Twisting and turning and spiraling like tiny funnel clouds until they slammed into him.
And the storm came to life again.”
Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings

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