Dalinar Kholin Quotes

Sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a man in the process of changing.

How . . .” Dalinar said. “You fell into a chasm!” “I fell face-first, sir,” Kaladin said, “and fortunately, I’m particularly hard-headed.

The most important word a man can say are, "I will do better.

A journey will have pain and failure. It is not only the steps forward that we must accept. It is the stumbles. The trials. The knowledge that we will fail. That we will hurt those around us. But if we stop, if we accept the person we are when we fail, the journey ends. That failure becomes our destination.

You are not a heretic, Dalinar Kholin. You are a king, a Radiant, and a father. You are a man with complicated beliefs, who does not accept everything you are told. You decide how you are defined. Don’t surrender that to them. They will gleefully take the chance to define you, if you allow it.

He fought as he wished he had all those years ago, for the chance he had missed. In that moment between storms--when the rain stilled and the winds drew in their breaths to blow--he danced with the slayer of kings, and somehow held his own.

Navani!” Dalinar shouted, pulling his horse to a slippery stop across the tarp from her. “I need a miracle!” “Working on it,” she shouted back.

They will try,” Jasnah said, “to define you by something you are not. Don’t let them. I can be a scholar, a woman, a historian, a Radiant. People will still try to classify me by the thing that makes me an outsider. They want, ironically, the thing I don’t do or believe to be the prime marker of my identity. I have always rejected that, and will continue to do so.” She reached over and put her freehand on his arm. “You are not a heretic, Dalinar Kholin. You are a king, a Radiant, and a father. You are a man with complicated beliefs, who does not accept everything you are told. You decide how you are defined. Don’t surrender that to them. They will gleefully take the chance to define you, if you allow it.” Dalinar nodded slowly.

A leader did not slump. A leader was in control. Even when he least felt like he controlled anything. Especially then.

Dalinar Kholin was a connoisseur of death. Even since his youth, the sight of dead men had been a familiar thing to him. You stay on the battlefield long enough, and you become familiar with its master.

Every decision we make influences others, and sometimes harms them. That’s not the way of kings. That’s the way of life.

The most important step that a man can take is the next one.

Something is either right or it’s wrong,” Dalinar said, feeling stubborn. “The Almighty doesn't come into it.” “God,” Navani said flatly, “doesn't come into whether his commands are right or wrong.” “Er. Yes.

Dalinar took one step forward, then drove his Blade point-first into the middle of the blackened glyph on the stone. He took a step back. “For the bridgemen,” he said. Sadeas blinked. Muttering voices fell silent, and the people on the field seemed too stunned, even, to breathe. “What?”Sadeas asked. “The Blade,”Dalinar said, firm voice carrying in the air. “In exchange for your bridgemen. All of them. Every one you have in camp. They become mine, to do with as I please, never to be touched by you again. In exchange, you get the sword.” Sadeas looked down at the Blade, incredulous. “This weapon is worth fortunes. Cities, palaces, kingdoms.” “Do we have a deal?”Dalinar asked. “Father, no!”Adolin Kholin said, his own Blade appearing in his hand. “You—” Dalinar raised a hand, silencing the younger man. He kept his eyes on Sadeas. “Do we have a deal?” he asked, each word sharp. Kaladin stared, unable to move, unable to think. Sadeas looked at the Shardblade, eyes full of lust. He glanced at Kaladin, hesitated just briefly, then reached and grabbed the Blade by the hilt. “Take the storming creatures.” Dalinar nodded curtly, turning away from Sadeas. “Let’s go,”he said to his entourage. “They’re worthless, you know,”Sadeas said. “You’re of the ten fools, Dalinar Kholin! Don’t you see how mad you are? This will be remembered as the most ridiculous decision ever made by an Alethi highprince!” Dalinar didn’t look back. He walked up to Kaladin and the other members of Bridge Four. “Go,” Dalinar said to them, voice kindly. “Gather your things and the men you left behind. I will send troops with you to act as guards. Leave the bridges and come swiftly to my camp. You will be safe there. You have my word of honor on it.” He began to walk away. Kaladin shook off his numbness. He scrambled after the highprince, grabbing his armored arm. “Wait. You—That—What just happened?” Dalinar turned to him. Then, the highprince laid a hand on Kaladin’s shoulder, the gauntlet gleaming blue, mismatched with the rest of his slate-grey armor. “I don’t know what has been done to you. I can only guess what your life has been like. But know this. You will not be bridgemen in my camp, nor will you be slaves.” “But…” “What is a man’s life worth?” Dalinar asked softly. “The slavemasters say one is worth about two emerald broams,” Kaladin said, frowning. “And what do you say?” “A life is priceless,” he said immediately, quoting his father. Dalinar smiled, wrinkle lines extending from the corners of his eyes. “Coincidentally, that is the exact value of a Shardblade. So today, you and your men sacrificed to buy me twenty-six hundred priceless lives. And all I had to repay you with was a single priceless sword. I call that a bargain.” “You really think it was a good trade, don’t you?” Kaladin said, amazed. Dalinar smiled in a way that seemed strikingly paternal.

Kaldıramayacağı bir silahı olan çocuktan korkmadığım gibi, düşünmeyen bir adamın aklından da asla korkmayacağım.

I will take responsibility for what I have done", Dalinar whispered. "If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man.

Dalinar turned to him. Then, the highprince laid a hand on Kaladin’s shoulder, the gauntlet gleaming blue, mismatched with the rest of his slate-grey armor. “I don’t know what has been done to you. I can only guess what your life has been like. But know this. You will not be bridgemen in my camp, nor will you be slaves.” “But…” “What is a man’s life worth?” Dalinar asked softly. “The slavemasters say one is worth about two emerald broams,” Kaladin said, frowning. “And what do you say?” “A life is priceless,” he said immediately, quoting his father. Dalinar smiled, wrinkle lines extending from the corners of his eyes. “Coincidentally, that is the exact value of a Shardblade. So today, you and your men sacrificed to buy me twenty-six hundred priceless lives. And all I had to repay you with was a single priceless sword.

Is that a proposal?” “… Yes?” “Dalinar Kholin,” she said. “Surely you can do better.” He rested his hand on the back of her head, touching her black hair, which she had left loose. “Better than you, Navani? No, I don’t think that I could. I don’t think that any man has ever had a chance better than this.

I'm a weak man, Navani. I really am. If I give myself a few feet of leeway, I burst through all of my prohibitions.

What is a man’s life worth?” Dalinar asked softly. “The slavemasters say one is worth about two emerald broams,” Kaladin said, frowning. “And what do you say?” “A life is priceless,” he said immediately, quoting his father. Dalinar smiled, wrinkle lines extending from the corners of his eyes. “Coincidentally, that is the exact value of a Shardblade. So today, you and your men sacrificed to buy me twenty-six hundred priceless lives. And all I had to repay you with was a single priceless sword. I call that a bargain.” “You really think it was a good trade, don’t you?” Kaladin said, amazed. Dalinar smiled in a way that seemed strikingly paternal. "For my honor? Unquestionably.

There were no symbols on the breastplate, because he was not Radiant. Adolin had no idea what he was, other than the son of both Dalinar and Evi Kholin. The product of both of their hopes. He was Adolin Kholin. A man with very good friends.

Tradition? Kadash, did I ever tell you about my first sword trainer? Back when I was young, our branch of the Kholin family didn't have grand monasteries and beautiful practice grounds. My father found a teacher for me from two towns over. His name was Harth. Young fellow, not a true swordmaster -- but good enough. He was very focused on proper procedure, and wouldn't let me train until I'd learned how to put on a takama the right way. He wouldn't have stood for me fighting like this. You put on the skirt, then the overshirt, then you wrap your cloth belt around yourself three times and tie it. I always found that annoying. The belt was too tight, wrapped three times -- you had to pull it hard to get enough slack to tie the knot. The first time I went to duels at a neighboring town, I felt like an idiot. Everyone else had long drooping belt ends at the front of their takamas. I asked Harth why we did it differently. He said it was the right way, the true way. So, when my travels took me to Harth's hometown, I searched out his master, a man who had trained with the ardents in Kholinar. He insisted that this was the right way to tie a takama, as he'd learned from his master. I found my master's master's master in Kholinar after we captured it. The ancient, wizened ardent was eating curry and flatbread, completely uncaring of who ruled the city. I asked him. Why tie your belt three times, when everyone else thinks you should do it twice? The old man laughed and stood up. I was shocked to see that he was terribly short. 'If I only tie it twice,' he exclaimed, 'the ends hang down so low, I trip!' I love tradition, I've fought for tradition. I make my men follow the codes. I uphold Vorin virtues. But merely being tradition does not make something worthy, Kadash. We can't just assume that because something is old it is right.

Did you just insult the princess’s weight?’ Tyn asked, aghast. Storms! She was good. She actually managed to produce angerspren with the remark. Well, nothing to do but soldier on. ‘I am offend!’ Shallan yelled. ‘You have offended Her Highness again!’ ‘Very offend!’ ‘You’d better apologize.’ ‘No apologize!’ Shallan declared. ‘Boots!’ Kal leaned back, looking between the two of them, trying to parse what had just been said. ‘Boots?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ Shallan said. ‘I am liking your boots. You will apology with boots.’ ‘You . . . want my boots?’ ‘Did you not hear Her Highness?’ Tyn asked, arms folded. ‘Are soldiers of this Dalinar Kholin’s army so disrespectful?’ ‘I’m not disrespectful,’ Kal said. ‘But I’m not giving her my boots.’ ‘You insult!’ Shallan declared, stepping forward, pointing at him.

Lift?” Dalinar asked in Azish. “Didn’t you leave?” “Sure did. What’s wrong with your army?” “They’re his now.” “Did you forget to feed them?” Dalinar glanced at the soldiers, standing in ranks that felt more like packs than they did true battle formations. “Perhaps I didn’t try hard enough.” “Were you … thinkin’ you’d fight them all on your own?” Lift said. “With a book?” “There is someone else for me to fight here.” “… With a book?” “Yes.” She shook her head. “Sure, all right. Why not? What do you want me to do?” The girl didn’t match the conventional ideal of a Knight Radiant. Not even five feet tall, thin and wiry, she looked more urchin than soldier. She was also all he had. “Do you have a weapon?” he asked. “Nope. Can’t read.” “Can’t…” Dalinar looked down at his book. “I meant a real weapon, Lift.” “Oh! Yeah, I’ve got one a those.” She thrust her hand to the side. Mist formed into a small, glittering Shardblade. … Or no, it was just a pole. A silver pole with a rudimentary crossguard. Lift shrugged. “Wyndle doesn’t like hurting people.” Doesn’t like … Dalinar blinked. What kind of world did he live in where swords didn’t like hurting people?

Highprince Dalinar Kholin,” Kaladin said, Stormlight puffing before his lips, “has refounded the Knights Radiant. And this time, we will not fail you.

Szeth stood and began to pick his way through the room. The revelry had lasted long; even the king had retired hours ago. But many still celebrated. As he walked, Szeth was forced to step around Dalinar Kholin—the king’s own brother—who slumped drunken at a small table. The aging but powerfully built man kept waving away those who tried to encourage him to bed. Where was Jasnah, the king’s daughter? Elhokar, the king’s son and heir, sat at the high table, ruling the feast in his father’s absence. He was in conversation with two men, a dark- skinned Azish man who had an odd patch of pale skin on his cheek and a thinner, Alethi- looking man who kept glancing over his shoulder.

I’m sorry. I don’t want another argument.” “I do,” Dalinar said. “I like it when you stand up for yourself. I like it when you fight.” She blinked tears and looked away. “Evi…” Dalinar said. “I hate what this does to you,” she said softly. “I see beauty in you, Dalinar Kholin. I see a great man struggling against a terrible one. And sometimes, you get this look in your eyes. A horrible, terrifying nothingness. Like you have become a creature with no heart, feasting upon souls to fill that void, dragging painspren in your wake. It haunts me, Dalinar.

He joined an overwhelming force of Voidbringers in all shapes and sizes. How could they fight this? How could anyone ever fight this? Navani fell to her knees above the broken edge of the wall. And then she noticed something else. Something incongruous, something her mind refused—at first—to accept. A solitary figure had somehow gotten around the troops who had already entered the city. He now picked his way across the rubble, wearing a blue uniform, carrying a book tucked under his arm. Unaided and defenseless, Dalinar Kholin stepped into the gap in the broken wall, and there faced the nightmare alone.

¿No sabes lo que se está diciendo de ti estos meses? —No. —¡Eres la comidilla en las redes de información por vinculacaña! ¡Dalinar Kholin, el Espina Negra, ha enloquecido! ¡Afirma haber matado al Todopoderoso! Un día se niega a combatir y al día siguiente marcha con sus ejércitos en una misión demencial a las Llanuras Quebradas. ¡Dice que va a esclavizar a los Portadores del Vacío! —Yo no he dicho que... —Nadie espera que todos los informes sean veraces, Dalinar, pero tenía informaciones de toda confianza que afirmaban que se te había ido la cabeza.

A journey will have pain and failure. It is not only the steps forward that we must accept. It is the stumbles. The trials. The knowledge that we will fail. That we will hurt those around us. But if we stop, if we accept the person we are when we fall, the journey ends. That failure becomes out destination. To love the journey is to accept no such end. I have found, through painful experience, that the most import step a person can take is always the next one - Dalinar Kholin

No eres un hereje, Dalinar Kholin. Eres un rey, un Radiante y un padre. Eres un hombre de creencias complicadas, que no acepta todo lo que le dicen. Eres tú quien decide cómo se te define. No concedas eso a los demás, porque aprovecharán de mil amores la oportunidad de definirte, si les dejas.

—Quédate con esas malditas criaturas. Dalinar asintió y dio media vuelta. —Vámonos —le dijo a su séquito. —No valen nada, ¿sabes? —dijo Sadeas—. ¡Eres de los diez locos, Dalinar Kholin! ¿No ves lo loco que estás? ¡Esto será recordado como la decisión más ridícula jamás tomada por un alto príncipe alezi!

—¿Qué es esto? —Es la insignia de la Guardia de Cobalto —dijo Kaladin—. La guardia personal de Dalinar Kholin. —Esos están muertos, gancho —dijo Lopen—. Esto no nos identifica. —Sí —coincidió Cikatriz. Para horror de Rind, sacó el cuchillo y cortó la insignia—. Somos el Puente Cuatro. —El Puente Cuatro era tu prisión —protestó Kaladin. —No importa —dijo Cikatriz—. Somos el Puente Cuatro.

I will take responsibility for what I have done. If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man.

Kaladin had long since given up on understanding Lopen. “Three?” Kaladin demanded. “Cousins!” Lopen replied, looking up. “You have too many of those,” Kaladin said. “That’s impossible! Rod, Huio, say hello!” “Bridge Four,” the two men said, raising their bowls. Kaladin shook his head, accepting his own stew and then walking past the cauldron into the darker area beside the barrack. He peeked into the storage room, and found Shen stacking sacks of tallew grain there, lit only by a single diamond chip. “Shen?” Kaladin said. The parshman continued stacking bags. “Fall in and attention!” Kaladin barked. Shen froze, then stood up, back straight, at attention. “At ease, soldier,” Kaladin said softly, stepping up to him. “I spoke to Dalinar Kholin earlier today and asked if I could arm you. He asked if I trusted you. I told him the truth.” Kaladin held out his spear to the parshman. “I do.” Shen looked from the spear to Kaladin, dark eyes hesitant. “Bridge Four

Kaladin absorbió un poco de luz tormentosa de su saquito. De su piel empezó a alzarse un humo puro y luminiscente, visible claramente en la penumbra de la sala. Se enlazó hacia arriba para elevarse en el aire y luego añadió un segundo lanzamiento hacia abajo, con lo que quedó flotando como a medio metro sobre el suelo, brillando. Syl cobró forma a partir de la niebla como una lanza esquirlada en su mano. —El alto príncipe Dalinar Kholin —dijo Kaladin, soltando volutas de luz tormentosa entre los labios— ha refundado los Caballeros Radiantes. Y esta vez, no os fallaremos.

—Sí. Recuerdo el día en que obtuviste tu hoja esquirlada. El mundo entero tembló ese día, Dalinar Kholin. —No te pongas melodramático —dijo Dalinar—. Fui solo uno más en una larga línea de imbéciles a los que se concedió la capacidad de matar gente con demasiada facilidad.

¿FORJADOR DE VÍNCULOS? —Pronuncio el mismo juramento —dijo Dalinar, cogiéndola de la mano—. Navani Kholin es mía y yo soy suyo. La amo.

Dalinar Kholin was a force like a storm. He simply blew you over, and assumed you’d always wanted to lie down in the first place.

Szeth de los Rompedores del Cielo envidiaba a Kaladin, ese que llamaban Bendito por la Tormenta, el honor de proteger a Dalinar Kholin. Pero por supuesto, no iba a protestar. Había escogido su juramento. Y haría lo que su amo le exigiera.

—La ley la crean los hombres, por lo que tampoco es perfecta. No es la perfección a lo que aspiramos, pues la perfección es imposible. Buscamos la consistencia. ¿Has pronunciado las Palabras? —Aún no. Juro cumplir la voluntad de Dalinar Kholin. Este es mi juramento. —Al pronunciarlo, la nieve cristalizó a su alrededor en el aire y cayó flotando. Notó una oleada de algo. ¿Aprobación del spren oculto que en tan pocas ocasiones se mostraba a él, ni siquiera en ese momento? —Creo que tus Palabras han sido aceptadas. ¿Has elegido tu misión para el siguiente Ideal? —Purgaré a los shin de sus falsos líderes, siempre que Dalinar Kholin me lo permita. —Ya veremos. Quizá lo encuentres un amo difícil. —Es un buen hombre, Nin-hijo-Dios. —Justo por eso lo digo. —Nin le hizo un saludo y empezó a alejarse en el aire. Negó con la cabeza cuando Szeth lo siguió y señaló hacia abajo—. Debes proteger al hombre que una vez intentaste matar, Szeth-hijo-Neturo.

Mientras Navani cerraba las puertas de la terraza, Dalinar cerró los ojos y sintió la calidez de una luz distante, inadvertida. Sonrió y, con mano insegura, como las piernecitas de un niño al dar sus primeros pasos, cogió otra página y escribió un título para el libro: Juramentada, mi gloria y mi vergüenza Escrito por la mano de Dalinar Kholin

—¡Mi hijo! —bramó. —¡Mi señor! —exclamó la mujer—. ¡Ten cuidado! —Es un Kholin —dijo Dalinar, acunando al niño—. Está hecho de material robusto.

Pero aunque el escrito de Jasnah Kholin es tan impresionante como sugiere su reputación, había algo más... auténtico en la solicitud de la dama Navani. —Es una de las personas más auténticas que conozco. —Dalinar puso una sonrisa embobada—. Y se le da bien conseguir lo que quiere.

—Jura que no sirves a los falsos spren que se inclinan ante Dalinar Kholin. —Lo juro. —¿Lo ves? —dijo la mujer, mirando a un compañero suyo—. Si hubiera sido una Radiante, no podría haber jurado en falso. «Ay, dulce y suave brisa —pensó Velo—. Bendita inocencia. No todos somos Forjadores de Vínculos o cosas por el estilo.» Para los Corredores del Viento o los Rompedores del Cielo quizá fuese un problema ir dejando caer por ahí promesas falsas, pero la orden de Shallan se cimentaba precisamente en la idea de que todo el mundo mentía, sobre todo a sí mismos.

Una persona tras otra le había fallado, haciendo que temblara por el sufrimiento. La consciencia afloró en Dalinar. Y allí, en la confluencia de dos tempestades, Dalinar Kholin comprendió. —Padre Tormenta —dijo—, ¡conozco las Palabras!

You are a kind man, Dalinar Kholin,” Navani said, that same sly smile on her lips as she sat back in the cushioned chair. “I’m afraid that I’m compelled to find you fascinating.

The Shardbearer’s honor guard caught up with him. He turned, armor seeming to glow as he raised his Blade in a salute of respect toward the bridgemen. Then he charged off in another direction. “That was him,” Drehy said, standing up. “Dalinar Kholin. The king’s uncle!” “He saved us!” Lopen said.

It wanted someone who understood it. That was the budding humanity of it, the budding awareness. Like all sapient things, it wanted to be understood. And thus, with that Connection, the power that had been ostracized at long last returned. Honor was born again in Dalinar Kholin.

Había dos personas en aquel planeta a las que, incluso siendo una deidad, respetaba casi como sus iguales. Jasnah Kholin y Dalinar Kholin. Si esos dos se oponían a él, entonces… él cuestionaba. Pues, en su Ascenso a la divinidad, había obtenido una sabiduría que eludía a casi todos los mortales. Un precepto sencillo y razonable: si alguien a quien le profesabas un profundo respeto estaba en desacuerdo contigo, quizá merecía la pena replantearte las cosas.

Like all sapient things, it wanted to be understood. And thus, with that Connection, the power that had been ostracized at long last returned. Honor was born again in Dalinar Kholin.