Cmorawrites

“You see, it can only be bested by someone who deeply, sincerely, understands it.” He lifted the gemstone above his head, and—one last time—embraced the Thrill. War. Victory. The contest. Dalinar’s entire life had been a competition: a struggle from one conquest to the next. He accepted what he had done. It would always be part of him. And though he was determined to resist, he would not cast aside what he had learned. That very thirst for the struggle—the fight, the victory—had also prepared him to refuse Odium. “Thank you,” he whispered again to the Thrill, “for giving me strength when I needed it.” The Thrill churned close around him, cooing and exulting in his praise. “Now, old friend, it is time to rest.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer

“The most important step a man can take. It’s not the first one, is it? It’s the next one. Always the next step, Dalinar. Trembling, bleeding, agonized, Dalinar forced air into his lungs and spoke a single ragged sentence. “You cannot have my pain.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer

“Kaladin floated downward toward him. “Ten spears go to battle,” he whispered, “and nine shatter. Did that war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” “I dragged it out back and clubbed it senseless for getting me into the army.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer