You Could Be Writing The Book That

Galladon Paused For A Moment, Then Laughed. "does Nothing Frighten You, Sule?" "actually, Pretty Much Everything Here Does—i'm Just Good At Ignoring The Fact That I'm Terrified. If I Ever Realize How Scared I Am, You'll Probably Find Me Trying To Hide Under Those Cobblestones Over There.

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.

Expectations Were Like Fine Pottery. The Harder You Held Them, The More Likely They Were To Crack.

I Point Out Truths When I See Them, Brightlord Sadeas. Each Man Has His Place. Mine Is To Make Insults. Yours Is To Be In-sluts.

What Did You Put In The Fire?" Kaladin Said. "to Make That Special Smoke?" "nothing. It Was Just And Ordinary Fire." "but, I Saw-" "what You Saw Belongs To You. A Story Doesn't Live Until It Is Imagined In Someone's Mind." "what Does The Story Mean, Then?" "it Means What You Want It To Mean," Hoid Said. "the Purpose Of A Storyteller Is Not To Tell You How To Think , But To Give You Questions To Think Upon. Too Often, We Forget That.