You're a mean old man, Your Grace." "And that is the way it should be." Roial informed. "Mean young men are trivial, and kindly old men boring. Here, let me get us something to drink.

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.

A story doesn't live until it is imagined in someone's mind.

Wayne's a little attached to that hat," Waxillium said. "He thinks it's lucky." Wayne: "It is lucky. I ain't never died while wearing that hat." Marasi frowned. "I ... I'm not sure I know how to respond." Wax: "That's a common reaction to Wayne.

One can have a wit, but not a witless

One cannot seperate truth from actions...Physically inevitable or not, truth stands above all things. It is independant of who has the best army, who can deliver the longest sermons, or even who has the most priests. It can be pushed down, but it will always surface. Truth is the one thing you can never intimidate.

Small things were important. Secods were small things, and if you heaped enough of those on top of one another, they became a man's life.