“You should try not to talk so much, friend. You'll sound far less stupid that way.
“I've always been very confident in my immaturity.”
“Belief isn't simply a thing for fair times and bright days...What is belief - what is faith - if you don't continue in it after failure?...Anyone can believe in someone, or something that always succeeds...But failure...ah, now, that is hard to believe in, certainly and truly. Difficult enough to have value. Sometimes we just have to wait long enough...then we find out why exactly it was that we kept believing...There's always another secret.”
“But you can't kill me, Lord Tyrant. I represent that one thing you've never been able to kill, no matter how hard you try. I am hope.”
“My behavior is nonetheless, deplorable. Unfortunately, I'm quite prone to such bouts of deplorability--take for instance, my fondness for reading books at the dinner table.”
“Our belief is often strongest when it should be weakest. That is the nature of hope.”
“I'm not really sure why. But... do you stop loving someone just because they betray you? I don't think so. That's what makes the betrayal hurt so much - pain, frustration, anger... and I still loved her. I still do.”
“Men rarely see their own actions as unjustified.”
“Breeze strolled over to the table and chose a seat with his characteristic decorum. The portly man raised his dueling cane, pointing it at Ham. 'I see that my period of intellectual respite has come to an end.'
Ham smiled. 'I thought up a couple beastly questions while I was gone, and I've been saving them just for you, Breeze.'
'I'm dying of anticipation,' Breeze said. He turned his cane toward Lestibournes. 'Spook, drink.'
Spook rushed over and fetched Breeze a cup of wine.
'He's such a fine lad,' Breeze noted, accepting the drink. 'I barely even have to nudge him Allomantically. If only the rest of you ruffians were so accommodating.'
Spook frowned. 'Niceing the not on the playing without.'
'I have no idea what you just said, child,' Breeze said. 'So I'm simply going to pretend it was coherent, then move on.'
Kelsier rolled his eyes. 'Losing the stress on the nip,' he said. 'Notting without the needing of care.'
'Riding the rile of the rids to the right,' Spook said with a nod.
'What are you two babbling about?' Breeze said testily.
'Wasing the was of brightness,' Spook said. 'Nip the having of wishing of this.'
'Ever wasing the doing of this,' Kelsier agreed.
'Ever wasing the wish of having the have,' Ham added with a smile. 'Brighting the wish of wasing the not.'
Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. 'I believe our companions have finally lost their minds, dear friend.'
Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, 'Wasing not of wasing is.”
"Yes," Sazed said. "Tell me, Mistress. What is it that you believe?"
Vin frowned. "What kind of question is that?"
"The most important kind, I think.”
“Marsh: Our best efforts were never even a mild annoyance to the Lord Ruler."
Kelsier: Ah, but being an annoyance is something that I am very good at. In fact, I'm far more than just a 'mild' annoyance--people tell me I can be downright frustrating. Might as well use this talent for the cause of good, eh?”
“How do you 'accidentally' kill a noble man in his own mansion?"
"With a knife in the chest. Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest...”
“What? Is that boy crazy?"
"Most young men his age are somewhat crazy, I think," Sazed said with a smile. "However, this is hardly unexpected. Haven't you noticed how he stares at you when you enter a room?"
"I thought he was just creepy.”
“The right belief is like a good cloak, I think. If it fits you well, it keeps you warm and safe. The wrong fit however, can suffocate.”
“That’s the funny thing about arriving somewhere, Vin,” he said with a wink. “Once you’re there, the only thing you can really do is leave again.”
“Women? Women are like...thunderstorms. They're beautiful to look at, and sometimes they're nice to listen to-but most of the time they're just plain inconvenient.”
“I bring you a message from a friend of ours," she said quietly. "He wanted you to know that he's not dead. He can't be killed."
"He is hope."
The she raised the spear and rammed it directly into the Lord Ruler's heart.”
“Honestly, for an evil god of darkness, he certainly can be dull.”
“I strive for nothing if not consistency”
“And Vin liked solitude. When you're alone, no one can betray you”
“What would you think if I told you that I wasn’t an Allomancer?” Sazed asked.
“I’d think that you were lying,” Vin said.
“Have you known me to lie before?”
“The best liars are those who tell the truth most of the time.”
“I think given the choice between loving Mare - betrayal included - and never knowing her, I'd chose love. I risked, and I lost, but the risk was still worth it.”
“I consider myself to be a man of principle. But, what man does not? Even the cutthroat, I have noticed, considers his actions "moral" after a fashion.
Perhaps another person, reading of my life, would name me a religious tyrant. He could call me arrogant. What is to make that man's opinion any less valid than my own?
I guess it all comes down to one fact: In the end, I'm the one with the armies.”
“That's kind of what trust is, isn't it? A willful self-delusion.”
“Vin: I don't know -- and it's all your fault, you know. I used to understand everything. Now it's all confused.
Kelsier: Yes, we've messed you up right properly.”
“He smiled despite the grief he felt at the deaths of his men; he smiled because that was what he did. That was how he proved to the Lord Ruler-and to himself-that he wasn't beaten.”
“Kelsier exhaled in exasperation. “Elend Venture? You risked your life—risked the plan, and our lives—for that fool of a boy?”
Vin looked up, glaring at him. “Yes.”
“What is wrong with you, girl?” Kelsier asked. “Elend Venture isn’t worth this.”
She stood angrily, Sazed backing away, the cloak falling the ﬂoor. “He’s a good man!”
“He’s a nobleman!”
“So are you!” Vin snapped. She waved a frustrated arm toward the kitchen and the crew. “What do you think this is, Kelsier? The life of a skaa? What do any of you know about skaa? Aristocratic suits, stalking your enemies in the night, full meals and nightcaps around the table with your friends? That’s not the life of a skaa!”
She took a step forward, glaring at Kelsier. He blinked in surprise at the outburst.
“What do you know about them, Kelsier?” she asked. “When’s the last time you slept in an alley, shivering in the cold rain, listening to the beggar next to you cough with a sickness you knew would kill him? When’s the last time you had to lay awake at night, terriﬁed that one of the men in your crew would try to rape you? Have you ever knelt, starving, wishing you had the courage to knife the crewmember beside you just so you could take his crust of bread? Have you ever cowered before your brother as he beat you, all the time feeling thankful because at least you had someone who paid attention to you?”
She fell silent, pufﬁng slightly, the crewmembers staring at her.
“Don’t talk to me about noblemen,” Vin said. “And don’t say things about people you don’t know. You’re no skaa— you’re just noblemen without titles.”
She turned, stalking from the room. Kelsier watched her go, shocked, hearing her footsteps on the stairs. He stood, dumbfounded, feeling a surprising ﬂush of ashamed guilt.
And, for once, found himself without anything to say.”
“I was thinking that work is like fertilizer in that I'm glad it exists; I just don't ever want to get stuck in it.”
“Sam stared at her long enough for heat to flood her cheek, as if he could see right inside of her-see everything. The fact that he didn't turn away from whatever he saw made her blood thrum through her veins.”
“...to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, [and] criticise after dinner...”
“There is no binary division to be made between what one says and what one does not say; we must try to determine the different ways of not saying such things, how those who can and those who cannot speak of them are distributed, which type of discourse is authorized, or which form of discretion is required in either case. There is not one but many silences, and they are an integral part of the strategies that underlie and permeate discourses.”
“That's because I've learned how to use it [smile], Woserit said. I don't pass it out like an old woman giving free milk to the village cats. It's something that must be controlled, and for you especially. You use it on anyone. You must learn to be more judicious.”
“Don’t tell her that your moms knew right away what it was, that she recognized its smell from the year the United States invaded your island.”
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