I have a smoke grenade in my room," I said. "What?" Megan asked. "How?" "I grew up working at a munitions plant," I said. "We mostly made rifles and handguns, but we worked with other factories. I got to pick up the occasional goody from the QC reject pile." "A smoke grenade is a goody?" Cody asked. I frowned. What did he mean? Of course it was. Who wouldn't want a smoke grenade when offered one?

That isn’t greatness. That’s just foolishness.

Now, I had been frightened on several different occasions in my life. The most frightening of these involved an elevator and a mime.

I am mountains that crush. I am waves that crash. I am storms that shatter. I am the end.

The number 1 thing that I don't want to see in a story is when characters exist simply to be proven wrong.

How do you do that?” Mennis asked, frowning. “What?” “Smile so much.” “Oh, I’m just a happy person.

My job is not to save 'The Wheel of Time', to fix 'The Wheel of Time', or anything like that. My job is not to screw it up.