Though, if you think about it, hostile, dethroned pseudodeities probably make disagreeable neighbors. You'll have to figure out something to do with him.

The Stormlight rising from his exposed skin was enough to illuminate the chasm, and it cast shadows on the walls as he ran. Those seemed to become figures, crafted by the bones and branches stretching from the heaps on the ground. Bodies and souls. His movement made the shadows twist, as if turning to regard him.

You're a sword not a palm tree

That's the point, isn't it? We have to live on, no matter how hard it gets. We'll win in the end.

Why do they call it research if I've only done it this one time?

Breeze turned to look out the window. "You were always the best of us, Sazed," he said quietly. "Because you believed in something.

War is far worse. At least where politics is going on, there are usually nice hors d’oeuvres.