I had Eondel teach me," Raoden said. "Back when I was trying to find ways to prove that my father's laws were foolish. Eondel chose fencing becausehe thought it would be most useful to me, as a politician. I never figured I'd end up using it to keep my wife from slicing me to pieces.

Sing!" Grandpa Smedry yelled, his voice echoing down a hallway to the right."Sing!" If he breaks into song I think I might have to strangle myself... I thought, cringing.

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.

Novels aren’t just happy escapes; they are slivers of people’s souls, nailed to the pages, dripping ink from veins of wood pulp. Reading the right one at the right time can make all the difference.

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?

Impossible things are really rough to do, you know.

That hat looks ridiculous.” “Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.