stormlight archive

Quotes from the Stormlight Archive series by @BrandSanderson. Tweets every hour. DM for questions, concerns, or requests.

[stormlight archive @stormlightquote]

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[stormlight archive @stormlightquote]

“Brightlord Adolin insisted. So long as you were in here, he wouldn’t leave. We tried to stop him, but the man’s a prince. We can’t storming make him do anything, not even leave. He locked himself away in the cell and we just had to live with it.”

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A man’s breath was his life. Exhaled, bit by bit, back into the world. Kaladin breathed deeply, eyes closed, and for a time that was all he could hear. His own life. In, out, to the beating of the thunder in his chest.

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women Adolin trusted had confided that they found the king quite handsome.
Not as handsome as Adolin, of course. But still handsome.

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Kaladin spun into them, a living storm of steel, wood, and determination.

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You mustn’t be hardheaded; pride doesn’t win battles.”
The boy cocked his head, frowning. “Your head isn’t hard?”

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If Dalinar could just stretch a little farther, he’d make it out. See the pattern in the lives of men. And finally know.

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He was done living for the day. It would be weeks, maybe months, before he got another opportunity.

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What did she do? What did she say? He’s right, she thought. I can’t fix this. Helaran could have. I can’t.
They were all slowly unraveling.

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We fight here because we understand. The end is the same. It is the path that separates men. When we taste that end, we will do so with our heads held high, eyes to the sun.”

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He hated that Stormlight, suddenly, as much as he hated himself. As much as the cursed Blade he held.

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Did I miss anything vital?”
“Yes,” Dalinar said. Then he raised his leg and kicked the king in the chest.

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“Damnation, Kaladin!” Moash said, taking his arm. “Are you trying to make me panic?”

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Rysn liked to pretend that her pot of Shin grass was not stupid, but merely contemplative.

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Twenty-seven men lived. He’d finally managed to save someone.
For now, that was enough.

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“Just don’t glow too brightly while we’re trying to sleep, eh, gancho?”

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“You’re a fool and an instigator. But you’re an honest one.”

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Kaladin wasn’t sure what to make of Renarin. The youth—he might have been older than Kaladin, but sure didn’t look it—wore spectacles and walked after his brother like a shadow.

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The anger that surged within Kaladin—sudden, passionate, almost chokingly strong—made him clench his fists. His breath hissed out. That surprised him. He’d thought the hatred buried deeper than that.

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“I will take responsibility for what I have done,” Dalinar whispered. “If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man.”

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“I began life as a thought, a concept, words on a page. That was another thing I stole. Myself.