True art was more than beauty; it was more than technique. It was not just imitation. It was boldness, it was contrast, it was subtlety.
BRANDON SANDERSONThere are no endings, and never will be endings, to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was an ending.
More Brandon Sanderson Quotes
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Well, then,” he said. “Let’s do it.” “What?” Vin asked. “Save the world.” Elend said. “Stop the ash.
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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.
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Think of the possibilities–if the ash were red, the rivers would run like blood. Black is so monotonous that you can forget about it, but red–you’d always be thinking, ‘Why, look at that. That hill is red. That evil force of doom trying to destroy me certainly has style.
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”To Parlin’s mind, nothing showed affection like a hunk of something dead and bleeding on the table.
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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?
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Ruin still used Reen’s voice-it was familiar, something that had always seemed a part of her. Discovering that it belonged to that thing…it was like finding out that her reflection really belonged to someone else, and that she’d never actually seen herself.
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I loathe what you’ve done. What has happened to you?’ Test him!’ Rand whispered, voice dangerous. ‘Before condemning me, let us first determine if my sins have achieved anything beyond my own damnation.
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Our belief is often strongest when it should be weakest. That is the nature of hope.
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You’ll never learn how to do your endings until you FINISH your endings.
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Faith isn’t about logic, son,” Haddek said. “Perhaps that’s your problem. You cannot ‘disprove’ the things you study, any more than we can prove to you that the Hero will save us. We simply must believe it, and accept the things Preservation has taught us.
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Her aunt Sol had once told Shai to smile at the worst insults and snap at the minor ones. That way, no man would know your heart.
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The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think, but to give you questions to think upon.
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How did men believe in something that preached love on one hand, yet taught destruction of unbelievers on the other? How did one rationalize belief with no proof?
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How do you do that?” Mennis asked, frowning. “What?” “Smile so much.” “Oh, I’m just a happy person.
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That’s kind of what trust is, isn’t it? A willful self-delusion.
BRANDON SANDERSON