The Well of Ascension

Love must be allowed to flow both ways—if it is not, then it is not truly love, I think. It is something else. Infatuation, perhaps? Either way, there are some of us who are far too quick to make martyrs of ourselves.

And men hate what they fear

She had been quite attractive a decade before, but now she was creeping up into her late twenties.

Oh, Kelsier, she thought, picking up another page. We could use you now. Kelsier had been a man beyond convention . . . a man who had somehow been able to defy reality. He'd thought that by giving his life to overthrow the Lord Ruler, he would secure freedom for the skaa. But, what if his sacrifice had opened the way for a greater danger, something so destructive that the Lord Ruler's oppression was a preferable alternative?

You've used your clothing to change how people react to you, to let them know who you are and what you represent—which is essentially what a uniform does.

Anyone can claim loyalty, Vin thought. If someone has a "Contract" to ensure their honor, then all the better. That makes the surprise more poignant when they do turn on you.

Sazed slammed into the wall. He was no Allomancer; he had no pewter to strengthen his body. As he collapsed to the ground, he felt a sharp pain in his side, and knew he had cracked a rib. Or worse.

We had the wrong gender all along.

He didn't like the way that cloaks rubbed against the small point of the spike that stuck out of his back just between the shoulder blades. The head was against his sternum, and couldn't be seen beneath clothing.

"It is time to go," God said.

Zane stood, leaving the mistcloak behind. He turned from his father's camp, leaving behind that which he had known, instead seeking the woman who would save him.

"Don't you think a man better appreciates love when he has been forced for so long to go without?"