M.Mahdi

“But sir, do you know why I get up each day?” Lirin shook his head. “It’s hard sometimes,” Noril said, stirring. “Coming awake means leaving the nothingness, you know? Remembering the pain. But then I think, ‘Well, he gets up.’” “You mean Kaladin?” Lirin asked. “Yes, sir,” Noril said. “He’s got the emptiness, bad as I do. I can see it in him. We all can. But he gets up anyway. We’re trapped in here, and we all want to do something to help. We can’t, but somehow he can. “And you know, I’ve listened to ardents talk. I’ve been poked and prodded. I’ve been stuck in the dark. None of that worked as well as knowing this one thing, sir. He still gets up. He still fights. So I figure … I figure I can too.” (less)”
― Brandon Sanderson, Rhythm of War

“She met Darkness’s descending Blade with her own weapon. Not a sword. Lift didn’t know crem about swords. Her weapon was just a silvery rod. It glowed in the darkness, and it blocked Darkness’s blow, though his attack left her arms quivering.
Ow, Wyndle’s voice said in her head.
Rain beat around them, and crimson lightning blasted down behind Darkness, leaving stark afterimages in Lift’s eyes.
“You think you can fight me, child?” he growled, holding his Blade against her rod. “I who have lived immortal lives? I who have slain demigods and survived Desolations? I am the Herald of Justice.”
“I will listen,” Lift shouted, “to those who have been ignored!”
― Brandon Sanderson, Edgedancer

“You don't have to smile. You don't have to talk. But if you're going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Rhythm of War

“I will remember those who have been forgotten.”
― Brandon Sanderson, Edgedancer