Brandon Sanderson

You don’t get to choose to be free, Venli. Just which master to follow.

He grinned, then kissed her hand again. He seemed to think that sort of thing would eventually spark passion in her. When in truth, physical stimulation was so inferior to mental stimulation.

“Innocence is more false a god than the ones in our songs,” Venli said, sitting beside her sister. “People who chase it will find themselves enslaved.”

She knew she shouldn’t let the lack of results bother her. Real scientists understood that experiments like this weren’t failures; they were necessary steps on the way to discovery.

We must not let our desires for a specific result cloud our perceptions.

“No one ever accomplished anything by being content with who they were, Shallan,” Adolin said. “We accomplish great things by reaching toward who we could become.”

“As long as it’s what you want to become. Not what someone else thinks you should become.”

“We proved nothing,” Navani said. “We had a single failed experiment.”

Eventually Dalinar had done what any good commander did when faced by such persistent mass insubordination: He backed down. When good men disobeyed, it was time to look at your orders.

“We need both heart and mind,” Lirin said. “The heart might provide the purpose, but the head provides the method, the path. Passion is nothing without a plan. Wanting something doesn’t make it happen.”

The trouble wasn’t getting answers. It was finding the presence of mind to accept them.

The man who forges weapons can claim he’s never killed, but he still prepares for the slaughter.

“When has any tyrant ever said to himself, ‘This is enough’?”