“I would not live alway: I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way.”

“Dark to me is the earth. Dark to me are the heavens.
Where is she that I loved, the woman with eyes like stars?
Desolate are the streets. Desolate is the city.
A city taken by storm, where none are left but the slain.”

“We rode on the winds of the rising storm”

“If I should die,” Dalinar said, “then I would do so having lived my life right. It is not the destination that matters, but how one arrives there.”
“The Codes?”
“No. The Way of Kings.”
“That storming book.”

“After a storm comes a calm.”

“Can’t you approach the young worker and tell him that the way to live is to work for life and not for death? Is it beneath American scholars to try to do that?… Your only salvation is in carrying the idea of socialism to the working class and coming back to storm—to storm, yes, to storm—the bastions of capitalism.”

“Therefore the earth is dark to me, the sunlight blackness,
Therefore I go in tears and alone, by night and day;
Therefore I find no love in heaven, no light, no beauty,
A heaven taken by storm, where none are left but the slain!”

“So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o’er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.”

“Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?”

“I am not bound over to swear allegiance to any master; where the storm drives me I turn in for shelter.”
Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.