Ascension Quotes

Elend: I kind of lost track of time… Breeze: For two hours? Elend: There were books involved.

It's easy to believe in something when you win all the time...The losses are what define a man's faith.

Good men don't become legends," he said quietly. "Good men don't need to become legends." She opened her eyes, looking up at him. "They just do what's right anyway.

...A man can only stumble for so long before he either falls or stands up straight.

It was amazing how many books one could fit into a room, assuming one didn't want to move around very much.

A man was defined not by his flaws, but by how he overcame them.

A man can only lead when others accept him as their leader, and he has only as much authority as his subjects give to him. All of the brilliant ideas in the world cannot save your kingdom if no one will listen to them.

I write these words in steel, for anything not set in metal cannot be trusted.

Death is an ascension to a better library.

At first glance, the key and the lock it fits may seem very different," Sazed said. "Different in shape, different in function, different in design. The man who looks at them without knowledge of their true nature might think them opposites, for one is meant to open, and the other to keep closed. Yet, upon closer examination he might see that without one, the other becomes useless. The wise man then sees that both lock and key were created for the same purpose.

He ate my horse.

I kind of lost track of time..." "For two hours?" Elend nodded sheepishly. "There were books involved.

Vin isn't…like other women." Tindwyl raised an eyebrow, her voice softening slightly. "I think that the more women you come to know, Your Majesty, the more you'll find that statement applies to all of them.

When blame and self-judgement are transformed, healed, and cease to be, we have reawakened without the myth, the mythos, of separation. We are One.

That's the point, isn't it? We have to live on, no matter how hard it gets. We'll win in the end.

Books have great value, actions have greater value.

Those who take lightly promises they make to those they love are people who find little lasting satisfaction in life. This is not an easy time in which to live. That does not mean that it has to be a difficult time to love, but it does mean that you will find unusual stresses upon your lives and your relationship.

Do not deride someone's faith simply because you do not share it, Lord Cladent," Sazed said quietly.

Great, Elend thought. I’ve filled my inner council with a bunch of thrill-seeking masochists. Even worse, I’ve decided to join them.

It is a time of change,'' Sazed said. ''Perhaps it is also time to learn of other truths, other ways.

There were a group of people before the Ascension known as the Astalsi. They claimed that each person was born with a certain finite amount of ill luck. And so, when an unfortunate event happened, they thought themselves blessed—thereafter, their lives could only get better.

Good men can make terrible kings,' Tindwyl noted. 'But bad men cannot make good kings.' Sazed said. 'It is better to start with a good man and work on the rest, I think.

What a pair they were - a Mistborn who felt guilty wasting coins to jump and a nobleman who thought balls were too expensive.

He found insanity no excuse, however, for irrational behavior.

You must love him enough to trust his wishes, even if you disagree with them. You must respect him - no matter how wrong you think he may be, no matter how poor you think his decisions, you must respect his desire to make them. Even if one of them includes loving you.

There are two races on earth. Those who need others, who are distracted, occupied and refreshed by others, who are worried, exhausted and unnerved by solitude as by the ascension of a terrible glacier or the crossing of a desert; and those, on the other hand, who are wearied, bored, embarrassed, utterly fatigued by others, while isolation calms them, and the detachment and imaginative activity of their minds bathes them in peace.

Evil forges a tornado. But goodness battles in a straight line.

In his life Christ is an example showing us how to live in his death he is a sacrifice satisfying our sins in his resurrection a conqueror in his ascension a king in his intercession a high priest.

Ham turned back, still smiling. "You make it sound so desperate, El." Elend looked over at him. "The Assembly is a mess, a half-dozen warlords with superior armies are breathing down my neck, barely a month passes without someone sending assassins to kill me, and the woman I love is slowly driving me insane." Vin snorted at this last part. "Oh is that all?" Ham said. "See? It's not so bad after all. I mean, we could be facing an immortal god and his all-powerful priests instead.

There are two ways to stay safe, Reen's voice whispered to her. Either be so quiet and harmless that people ignore you, or be so dangerous that they're terrified of you.

No matter how mad, bad, and dangerous to know a civilization gets, unto every generation are born the lonely and the uncool, destined to forever stare into the candy-store window of their culture, and loneliness is the mother of ascension. Only the uncool have the requisite alone time to advance their species.

You know, Ham," Breeze noted. "The only funny thing about your jokes is how often they lack any humor whatsoever.

Vulnerability is the least celebrated emotion in our society

There's magic in recognizing a kindred spirit, and an even greater power in letting yourself love them. When it scares you, let it - that's your ego letting go.

The study's small ventilation window bumped open, and Vin squeezed through, pulling in a puff of mist behind her. She closed the window, then surveyed the room. "More?" she asked incredulously. "You found more books?" "Of course," Elend said. "How many of those things have people written?" she asked with exasperation.

Vin snorted, kneeling in the low tent as she pulled her belt tight; then she crawled over to him. "I don't know how you read while riding," she said. "Oh, it's quite easy - if you aren't afraid of horses." "I'm not afraid of them," Vin said. "They just don't like me. They know I can outrun them, and that makes them surly.

Other men are strong like bricks - firm, unyielding, but if you pound on them long enough, they crack. You... you're strong like the wind. Always there, so willing to bend, but never apologetic for the times when you must be firm.

It seems that the rebels found the chaos of transition more difficult to accept than the tyranny they had known before. They joyfully welcomed back authority-even oppressive authority-for it was less painful for them than uncertainty.

We are not trapped by our thoughts. What we generally do, however, is create thoughts that trap us.” (p.162)

If you perpetuate the dreams of the past, you stifle your own dreams of the future.

You saved me again," she told him with a starstruck gaze. He cupped her cheek and gave her a tender smile in the dark. "Because you are my princess and I am your knight.

Zane didn't make sense. He didn't have to. That was, perhaps, one of the advantages of being insane.

Those who take lightly promises they make to those they love are people who find little lasting satisfaction in life.

It was his ability to trust," she said. "It was the way that he made good people into better people, the way that he inspired them. His crew worked because he had confidence in them - because he respected them. And, in return, they respected each other. Men like Breeze and Clubs became heroes because Kelsier had faith in them.

It’s lucky King Damianos is at Delpha,’ said Charls, uncertainly. ‘There’s no need to worry that the Prince is away so close to the Ascension.’ ‘Yes, this would be a terrible idea otherwise,’ said Lamen.

...Regardless, I still do not believe that your duty is to do as the people wish. Your duty is to lead as best you can, following the dictates of your conscience. You must be true. Your Majesty, to the man you wish to become....

In a way, she'd rather trust him and be wrong than deal with the worry of mistrust.

Do I pray for her life or mine? They're one in the same...Be this soul in Thine hands...I stop, unable to pray for her ascension. I cannot let her go, I think in agony. I try again, May this soul in Thine hands be with me...always.

You know,” OreSeur muttered quietly, obviously counting on her tin to let Vin hear him, “it seems that these meetings would be more productive if someone forgot to invite those two.” Vin smiled. “They’re not that bad,” she whispered. OreSeur raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” Vin said. “They do distract us a little bit.” “I could always eat on of them, if you wish,” OreSeur said. “That might speed things up.” Vin paused. OreSeur, however had a strange little smile on his lips. “Kandra humor, Mistress. I apologize. We can be a bit grim.” Vin smiled. “They probably wouldn’t taste very good anyway. Ham’s far too stringy, and you don’t want to know the kinds of things that Breeze spends his time eating….” “I’m not sure,” OreSeur said. “One is, after all, named ‘Ham.’ As for the other…” He nodded to the cup of wine in Breeze’s hand. “He does seem quite fond of marinating himself.

Study yourself. Become your own mentor and best friend. When you are suffering stay at the bottom until you find out who you are. Let the storms come and pass. How you walk through the fire says a lot about you. Nobody likes a victimhood mentality and what happened to you is not important. It is about how you use your chaos that matters. The dawn will come

He hunted with his groin but couldn't find her.

Because if I accept that Elend bears no guilt for what his people did to mine, then I must admit to being a monster for the things that I did to them.

Do I, then, belong to the heavens? Why, if not so, should the heavens Fix me thus with their ceaseless blue stare, Luring me on, and my mind, higher Ever higher, up into the sky, Drawing me ceaselessly up To heights far, far above the human? Why, when balance has been strictly studied And flight calculated with the best of reason Till no aberrant element should, by rights, remain- Why, still, should the lust for ascension Seem, in itself, so close to madness? Nothing is that can satify me; Earthly novelty is too soon dulled; I am drawn higher and higher, more unstable, Closer and closer to the sun's effulgence. Why do these rays of reason destroy me? Villages below and meandering streams Grow tolerable as our distance grows. Why do they plead, approve, lure me With promise that I may love the human If only it is seen, thus, from afar- Although the goal could never have been love, Nor, had it been, could I ever have Belonged to the heavens? I have not envied the bird its freedom Nor have I longed for the ease of Nature, Driven by naught save this strange yearning For the higher, and the closer, to plunge myself Into the deep sky's blue, so contrary To all organic joys, so far From pleasures of superiority But higher, and higher, Dazzled, perhaps, by the dizzy incandescence Of waxen wings. Or do I then Belong, after all, to the earth? Why, if not so, should the earth Show such swiftness to encompass my fall? Granting no space to think or feel, Why did the soft, indolent earth thus Greet me with the shock of steel plate? Did the soft earth thus turn to steel Only to show me my own softness? That Nature might bring home to me That to fall, not to fly, is in the order of things, More natural by far than that improbable passion? Is the blue of the sky then a dream? Was it devised by the earth, to which I belonged, On account of the fleeting, white-hot intoxication Achieved for a moment by waxen wings? And did the heavens abet the plan to punish me? To punish me for not believing in myself Or for believing too much; Too earger to know where lay my allegiance Or vainly assuming that already I knew all; For wanting to fly off To the unknown Or the known: Both of them a single, blue speck of an idea?

I think the trick is convincing yourself that you deserve the reactions you get. You can wear the court's dresses, Vin, but make them your own. Don't worry that you aren't giving people what they want. Give them who you are, and let that be enough.

I don't trust anybody who isn't a little bit neurotic

And yet, he was finding more and more that he didn't want to take his mind off her. Which was more potent? The pain of memory, or the pain of forgetting?

When we return, I will put you forward for Ascension,” Charlotte finished. “I will speak out for her case as well,” Gideon said. “After all, I have my father’s place on the Council—his friends will listen to me; they still owe loyalty to our family—and besides, how else can we be married?” “What?” said Gabriel with a wild hand gesture that accidentally flipped the nearest plate onto the floor, where it shattered. “Married?” said Henry. “You’re marrying your father’s friends on the Council? Which of them?

Sometimes, people only seem determined upon one course because they have been offered no other options.

Vin shook her head. "No, not me. I'm not a good person or a bad person. I'm just here to kill things." OreSeur watched her for a moment, then settled back down. "Regardless," he said, "you are not my worst master. That is, perhaps, a compliment among our people.

People who underestimated you were easier to manipulate.

Headaches from using my attunement? I could deal with them. Existential terror at the possibility of destroying my own mind? Pretty much routine at this point. Doing paperwork for the government? Now that was brutal.

Ascension seemed at such times a natural law. If one added to it a law of completion - that everything must finally be made comprehensible - then some general rescue of the sort I imagined my aunt to have undertaken would be inevitable. For why do our thoughts turn to some gesture of a hand, the fall of a sleeve, some corner of a room on a particular anonymous afternoon, even when we are asleep, and even when we are so old that our thoughts have abandoned other business? What are all these fragments for , if not to be knit up finally?

Love the one that love's you Back

Damn, Marcus, how much have you been working out? You have the ass of a god. He turned to face her, and naturally her gaze fell to his jewels. She shook her head and sighed. You warriors are so fucking hung and I really do need a man.

If we are serious about dreaming our awakening into being and creating a peaceful, loving earth in which the heart, spirit and soul are the only true leaders, we must continue to keep our focus on thoughts of unity and all that truly brings us together.

Drama does not just walk into our lives. Either we create it, invite it, or associate with it.

I take it as a compliment when somebody calls me crazy. I would be offended if I was one of the sheeple, one of the sleepwalkers in the matrix or part of the collective hallucination we call 'normal

The last thing he heard was Medichi's voice crying out, "It must be the goddamn breh-hedden. Again. Holy shit! It's a fucking epidemic!

Our society shuns people for being a bright light in the world. Sometimes if you are too futuristic people do not like how revolutionary you are

You settle for less, you get less.

Escribo estas palabras en acero, pues todo lo que no esté grabado en metal es indigno de confianza

The skaa called Sazed holy, but at that moment he realized that he was the most profane of men. He was a creature who knew three hundred religions, yet had faith in none of them.

Life is a useless passion, an exciting journey of a mammal in survival mode. Each day is a miracle, a blessing unexplored and the more you immerse yourself in light, the less you will feel the darkness. There is more to life than nothingness. And cynicism. And nihilism. And selfishness. And glorious isolation. Be selfish with yourself, but live your life through your immortal acts, acts that engrain your legacy onto humanity. Transcend your fears and follow yourself into the void instead of letting yourself get eaten up by entropy and decay. Freedom is being yourself without permission. Be soft and leave a lasting impression on everybody you meet

Ham shook his head, sitting down, pouring himself something to drink. "I don't get it, El. Why'd she attack him?" "She's loony," Spook said.

She wanted to be the rain, to cover him with moisture, to bring life to his seed.

You are so much more than you are willing to accept, child.

Honesty does not make a man less of a tyrant.

She thought she heard a faint growl. She listened harder. The warrior with all the gorgeous black hair was growling. Because she's said the other man was good-looking and muscular? Uh-huh. A clear case of caveman possessiveness...and it kind of got to her.

Manipulation works so well on a personal level, I don't see why it wouldn't be an equally viable national policy." "That's actually how most rulership works," Ham mused. "What is a governement but an institutionalized method of making sure somebody else does all the work?

If people can't tell when I'm being an idiot and when I'm being a genius, perhaps they'll assume my blunders are brilliant political maneuvers.

She was thong-climbing-her-ass pissed.

What is a government but an institutionalized method of making sure somebody else does all the work?

Give someone everything you can think of, the wings to fly and the roots to stay. If they chose none of these hold the door open for them with a smile

I am a habitual rule-breaker

I thought I knew you," she snapped. "I thought you were a good man, down deep" Cett shook his head. "The good men are all dead, Allrianne. They died inside that city.

It was the day of my Judgment, and I was prepared in a thousand ways that didn’t matter.

Presumably, the bells of the Church of the Ascension had been reclaimed by the Bolsheviks for the manufacture of artillery, thus returning them to the realm from whence they came. Though for all the Count knew, the cannons that had been salvaged from Napoleon's retreat to make the Ascension's bells had been forged by the French from the bells at La Rochelle; which in turn had been forged from British blunderbusses seized in the Thirty Years War. From bells to cannons and back again, from now until the end of time.

You are not always right. It’s not always about being right. The best thing you can offer others is understanding. Being an active listener is about more than just listening, it is about reciprocating and being receptive to somebody else. Everybody has woes. Nobody is safe from pain. However, we all suffer in different ways. So learn to adapt to each person, know your audience and reserve yourself for people who have earned the depths of you

I have always believed reincarnation to be true. This will go on and on until one discovers oneself. But at times, my thinking deviates a bit from eastern philosophy. I don’t think our bad karmas would make us cockroaches, rats, pigs, etc., in our next lives. I am of the view that achieving Moksha isn’t possible unless we experience everything that could be experienced. I have to experience oppression, but I also have to oppress. I have to be a sparrow to experience the joy of flight. I have to be a bee to experience colours beyond the visible spectrum. And I have to be a dog to hear ultrasonic sounds. Do you get it? I have to experience everything to achieve moksha. Becoming a bee in the next life is not the result of my bad Karma. It is instead a stepping stone. The path to ascension has to be a spiral. Not round and round. Every decision of mine has to lead there. Every step has to lead me towards self-actualization.

We must try to remember everything, every movement, every stretch, every convulsion that made us how we move as we readily grow in our outer body that encompasses the planets, the suns and the moons in every other body that we touch, in every other mouth that we kissed, in every other language that we try to comprehend; for they are not the outside of a stranger, nor are they just images of our psyche, but the very being of ourselves, the dimensional levels of our very existence weaving colours in the tapestry of creation, yet the very non-existence of the template is proof of consciousness, of ascension, of Life.

Now, in a shift of light, the shadows of birds are more pronounced on the gallery’s white wall. The shadow of each bird is speaking to me. Each shadow doubles the velocity, ferocity of forms. The shadow, my shadow now merges with theirs. Descension. Ascension. The velocity of wings creates the whisper to awaken…. I want to feel both the beauty and the pain of the age we are living in. I want to survive my life without becoming numb. I want to speak and comprehend words of wounding without having these words become the landscape where I dwell. I want to possess a light touch that can elevate darkness to the realm of stars.

The koloss he’d attacked did not rise. Its companions stood, looking unconcerned, though their eyes were focused on him. They seemed to want something. “He ate my horse,” Elend said, saying the first thing that came to his clouded mind. The group of koloss nodded.

Clubs shook his head. "Kelsier. Gave us a city, made us think we were responsible for protecting it." "But we aren't that kind of people," Breeze said. "We're thieves and scammers. We shouldn't care. I mean... I've gotten so bad that I Soothe scullery maids so that they'll have a happier time at work! I might as well start dressing in pink and carrying around flowers. I could probably make quite a bundle at weddings." Clubs snorted. Then he raised his cup. "To the Survivor," he said "May he be damned for knowing us better than we knew in ourselves." Breeze raised his own cup. " Damn him," he agreed quietly.

The prophecies are not literal, Mistress," OreSeur said. "They're metaphors - expressions of hope. Or, at least, that is how I have always seen them. Perhaps your Terris prophecies are the same? Expressions of a belief that if the people were in danger, their gods would send a Hero to protect them? In this case, the vagueness would be intentional - and rational. The prophecies were never meant to mean something specific, but more to speak of a general feeling. A general hope.

Beyond the table, there is an altar, with candles lit for Billie Holiday and Willa Carter and Hypatia and Patsy Cline. Next to it, an old podium that once held a Bible, on which we have repurposed an old chemistry handbook as the Book of Lilith. In its pages is our own liturgical calendar: Saint Clementine and All Wayfarers; Saints Lorena Hickok and Eleanor Roosevelt, observed in the summer with blueberries to symbolize the sapphire ring; the Vigil of Saint Juliette, complete with mints and dark chocolate; Feast of the Poets, during which Mary Oliver is recited over beds of lettuce, Kay Ryan over a dish of vinegar and oil, Audre Lorde over cucumbers, Elizabeth Bishop over some carrots; The Exaltation of Patricia Highsmith, celebrated with escargots boiling in butter and garlic and cliffhangers recited by an autumn fire; the Ascension of Frida Khalo with self-portraits and costumes; the Presentation of Shirley Jackson, a winter holiday started at dawn and ended at dusk with a gambling game played with lost milk teeth and stones. Some of them with their own books; the major and minor arcana of our little religion.

He turned back to her stomach and got very close. She thought he meant to kiss her again and prepared to enjoy his lips on her abdomen once more. Instead he addressed the fiery ball of cells. "Lucy," he said, deepening his voice in a really wretched imitation of Darth Vader. "I am your father." Alison groaned. her breh was such a ham. A terrible, wonderful, sexy, vampire ham. Who'd've thought?

Now that the house was securely hidden, the fact that he was holed up with Havily sent a wave of heat over his body. I'm not going to be able to keep away from you, he said. Tell me you know that. Tell me you understand. Her eyelids fell to half-mast as she released a deep sigh. Another wave of honeysucke hit him square in the chest. No one is asking you to, Warrior.

But the resurrection of a dead person from the grave, and his ascension through the air, is a thing very different, as to the evidence it admits of, to the invisible conception of a child in the womb. The resurrection and ascension, supposing them to have taken place, admitted of public and ocular demonstration, like that of the ascension of a balloon, or the sun at noon day, to all Jerusalem at least. A thing which everybody is required to believe, requires that the proof and evidence of it should be equal to all, and universal; and as the public visibility of this last related act was the only evidence that could give sanction to the former part, the whole of it falls to the ground, because that evidence never was given. Instead of this, a small number of persons, not more than eight or nine, are introduced as proxies for the whole world, to say they saw it, and all the rest of the world are called upon to believe it. But it appears that Thomas did not believe the resurrection; and, as they say, would not believe without having ocular and manual demonstration himself. So neither will I; and the reason is equally as good for me, and for every other person, as for Thomas.

You’re not terrified of me. You’re terrified of letting yourself care for me, and I can’t say I blame you. People who love me usually end up dead. But you see, I’m not going to give you any choice. You belong to me now whether you like it or not.” “I don’t like it, not one bit!” “Try to escape,” he suggested coolly. “Go ahead. See what happens. Give me one excuse to take what I want from you, even if it is against your will. I want you that much. Too damned much.” He turned without warning and kissed her, flattening her back against the pine mast.

Reality is what we notice on the surface – what we feel or see, what superficial perspectives we might gain, for example, from television's evening news. Truth is much larger. It encompasses everything that genuinely is going on. The reality might be that our world looks totally messed up, that war and economic chaos seem to control the globe. But the truth is much deeper – that Jesus Christ is still (since His ascension) Lord of the cosmos, and the Holy Spirit is empowering many people to work for peacemaking and justice building as part of the Trinity's purpose to bring the universe to its ultimate wholeness. The reality might be that you do not feel God, but the truth is that God is always present with you, perpetually forgiving you, and unceasingly caring for you with extravagant grace and abundant mercy. Not only that, but the very process of dealing with our lack of feelings and our resultant doubts about God is one of the ways by which our trust in the Trinity is deepened.