Mistborn Alloy Of Law Quotes

The mark of a great man is one who knows when to set aside the important things in order to accomplish the vital ones.

That hat looks ridiculous.” “Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.

Wayne's a little attached to that hat," Waxillium said. "He thinks it's lucky." Wayne: "It is lucky. I ain't never died while wearing that hat." Marasi frowned. "I ... I'm not sure I know how to respond." Wax: "That's a common reaction to Wayne.

The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible.

So,” Marasi said, “you traded a dead man’s scarf for another dead man’s gun. But…the gun itself belonged to someone dead, so by the same logic—” “Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.

It's all right Wayne," Waxillium said softly. "I've made a promise. I told Lord Harms I'd return Steris to him. And I will. That is that." "Then I will remain and help," Marasi said. "That is that." "And I could really use some food," Wayne added. "Fat is fat.

Wayne: You wanna know why I really came to find you? Waxilliam: Why? Wayne: I thought of you happy in a comfy bed, resting and relaxing, spending the rest of your life sipping tea and reading papers while people bring you food and maids rub your toes and stuff. Waxilliam: And? Wayne: And I just couldn't leave you to a fate like that...I'm too good a friend to let a mate of mine die in such a terrible situation. Waxilliam: Comfortable? Wayne: No. Boring.

The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. It’s in how they make use of what life has shown them.

Well,” Waxillium said. “Perhaps I should begin by asking after your health.” “Perhaps you should,” Steris replied. “Er. Yes. How’s your health?” “Suitable.” “So is Waxillium,” Wayne added. They all turned to him. “You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable. Ahem. Is that mahogany?

I really am impressed that you have been shot so often. Really.” “Getting hit’s not really that impressive,” Wayne noted. “It don’t take much skill to get shot. It’s avoiding the bullets that’s tough.

I need something, Wax. A place to look. You always did the thinking.” “Yes, having a brain helps with that, surprisingly.

Once one becomes a man, he can and must make his own decisions. But I do offer warning. Even a good thing can become destructive if taken to excess.

And don't waste time worshipping Harmony. Doing good was the worship.

People today...it seems they are good, or sometimes evil, mostly by inertia, not by choice.

Oh, Wax has always been solemn, but when he's at his best, there's a smirk underneath.

Doesn't matter how good your bullets are if you don't aim carefully.

To be of use in even a single burst of flame and sound is worth more than a lifetime of achieving nothing.

Actually, [Wax] said, we came here because we needed someplace safe to think for a few hours." Ranette: "Your mansion isn't safe?" Wax: "My butler failed to poison me, then tried to shoot me, then set off an explosive in my study" Ranette: "Huh.... You need to screen these people better, Wax.

Why do they call it research if I've only done it this one time?

You are inexperienced. So was I, once. So is every man. The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. . . It's in how they make us of what life has shown them.

If you remove the foundation of trust from a relationship, then what is the point of that relationship?

Some mistakes, though, you can’t fix by being sorry. Can’t fix them, no matter what you do.

I was a little busy being shot at.” “Busy? Aw, mate. It doesn’t take any effort at all to get shot at.

Why is it,” Marasi said angrily, “that small-minded men must destroy that which they know is better, and greater, than they?

It’s what happens when you shoot someone,” Wayne pointed out. “At least, usually someone has the good sense to get dead when you go to all the trouble to shoot them.

Funny, how quickly someone can stop calling you a miscreant and a rogue when they want your help,

What wasdat, sir? What wazzat sir? What wassat, sir?” “Wayne, what are you babbling about?” Waxillium asked. “Practicing my pretzel guy,” Wayne said. “He had a great accent...” Waxillium glanced at him. "That hat looks ridiculous.” “Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said in the pretzel-guy accent, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.

Act like you were important, act like you were angry, and people just wanted to get out of your way.

Wayne claimed to have memorized the names of all of the different possible combinations of Twinborn. Of course, Wayne also claimed to have once stolen a horse that belched in perfect musical notes, so one learned to take what he said with a pinch of copper.

The more alone you are,” Waxillium said softly, “the more important it is to have someone you can rely upon.

Greet every morning with a smile. That way it won't know what you're planning to do to it?

So, Wax,” Wayne butted in. “Where did you say that bloke was who had my hat?” “I told you that he got away after I shot him.” “I was hoping he’d dropped my hat, you know. Getting shot makes people drop stuff.” Waxillium sighed. “He still had it on when he left, I’m afraid.” Wayne started cursing. “Wayne,” Marasi said. “It’s only a hat.” “Only a hat?” he asked, aghast. “Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.” “It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.

Nothing else dangerous we could find. Other than Wayne’s body odor.” “That’s the smell of incredibleness,” Wayne called from inside.

My lord. There is great importance to tea. It should never merely be ‘whatever.

There isn’t much time for a plan. This is more of a hunch with scaffolding.

Harmony protect us from small-minded men with too much power.

Most Allomancers didn’t use whiskey in their metal vials. Most Allomancers were missing out on a perfect opportunity

Too much in high society is built around the idea of making certain you don't need to trust anyone," Waxillium said. "Contracts, detailed operating reports, not being seen alone with an eligible member of the opposite gender. If you remove the foundation of trust from a relationship, then what is the point of that relationship?

You are inexperienced. So was I, once. So is every man. The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. It is not how easily they jump at a noise or how quick they are to show emotion. It’s in how they make use of what life has shown them.

But the mark of a great man is one who knows when to set aside the important things in order to accomplish the vital ones.

My association with you has been convincing people I'm insane for years now.

Wasing the where of needing,” she read, forming the unfamiliar words. The lofty tongue was used for old documents dating to the time of the Origin, and occasionally for government ceremony.

The rest of the time, I don't do so much thinkin'. 'Cuz if I did, I'd go running back to where things is simple. You see?

You have a plan?” she asked. “There isn’t much time for a plan. This is more of a hunch with scaffolding.

Waxillium found himself nodding. “You can be very wise sometimes, Wayne.” “It’s onnacount of my thinkin’, mate,” Wayne said, tapping his head, increasing the thickness of his accent. “It’s what I do wif my brain. Somma the time, at least.

People, they misunderstood the word “accent.” They thought accents were those things everybody else had.

I need you to stick your head in a bucket of water and slowly count to a thousand!

They’re all Allomancers,” Waxillium guessed. “More than that,” Wayne said. “They’re all relatives.” “It’s only been three hundred years since the Originators, Wayne. We’re all relatives.” “Does that mean you’ll take responsibility for me?” “No.

The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. It is not how easily they jump at a noise or how quick they are to show emotion. It’s in how they make use of what life has shown them.

The mists seemed to draw back. Waxillium stood there, wearing a large, dusterlike coat, cut into strips below the waist. A pair of revolvers gleamed in holsters at his hips, and he rested a shotgun on each shoulder. His face was bloodied, but he was smiling.

He was honest,” Wayne said. “I got a sense for that sort of thing.” He sneezed. “You believed that Lessie really was a dancer, the first time we met her,” Waxillium said, rising. “That’s different. She was a woman. Good at lying, they are. The God Beyond made’m that way.” “I’m … not certain how I should take that,” Marasi said. “With a pinch of copper,” Waxillium said. “And a healthy dose of skepticism. Just like anything Wayne says.

Wayne recognized him. The fellow had tried to shoot him, so Wayne had broken his arm with a dueling cane. Downright rude, trying to shoot like that. When a fellow pulls out a dueling cane, you should respond with one of your own—or at least a knife. Trying to shoot Wayne was like bringing dice to a card game. What was the world coming to?

But you know what I think? I think you're looking for excuses to not let go. This thing, it's who you are. And no mansion, no marriage, and no mere title is going to change that." Wayne tipped his hat. "You're meant to be helping people, mate. It's what you do.

Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.

He’s like a rash. The more you scratch him, the more irritating he gets.

Most people, they didn’t understand hats, and Wayne didn’t really blame them. Until you’d had a good, lucky hat, you wouldn’t understand the value of it.

It was too late to change one’s aim when the hammer was already falling. But it wasn’t too late to straighten his back.

The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. It is not how easily they jump at a noise or how quick they are to show emotion. It's how they make use of what life has shown them.

Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.” “I … have no response to that,” Marasi said.

But you know what I think? I think you're looking for excuses to not let go. This ting, it's who you are. And no mansion, no marriage, and no mere title is going to change that." Wayne tipped his hat. "You're meant to be helping people, mate. It's what you do.

Well, perhaps by one definition. But it seems that either one—good or evil—has to be pursued for it to be significant. People today … it seems they are good, or sometimes evil, mostly by inertia, not by choice. They act as their surroundings prepare them to act.

I suggested she write down her thoughts" He said, "...and, well, my daughter is a very thorough woman." "I can see that." Waxillium said. "I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk" Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear "She seems likely to throw a cow at you just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible,” Wayne said. “What he giveth, he can draw back unto himself. And lo, let it be written and pondered.

People today … it seems they are good, or sometimes evil, mostly by inertia, not by choice. They act as their surroundings prepare them to act.

Rusts. Those two were as awkward as a man suddenly splitting his cheeks in church.

Sometimes,” he said, “accomplishment and perception can work independently.

If you find a building without rats, son, then you know that something more dangerous scared them away.

I doubt you’ve ever seen the dawn.” “That’s right unfair. See it all the time, when I stay up too late.…

All of the best motives boiled down to a single, driving emotion.

The human mind was very clever at tricking itself, at keeping the despair of inevitability at bay.

Keep going. Is not as difficult as you feel it is. Don't give up

But the mark of a great man is one who knows when to set aside the important things in order to accomplish the vital ones.” The

protect us from small-minded men with too much power.

Did people see how their voices were like living things? Move a plant, and it would change and adapt to the environment around it. Move a person, and the way they talked would grow, adapt, evolve.

I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk,” Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear. “As she seems likely to throw a cow at you, just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

You are inexperienced. So was I, once. So is every man. The measure of a person is not how much they have lived. It is not how easily they jump at a noise or how quick they are to show emotion. It’s in how they make use of what life has shown them.” Her

Do you have a preference?” Tillaume could manufacture dozens of varieties of tea from the simplest of starting points, blending and making what he considered ideal. “Whatever.” “My lord. There is great importance to tea. It should never merely be ‘whatever.

Steris had called the Path a simple religion. Perhaps it was. There was only one basic tenet: Do more good than harm. There were other aspects—the belief that all truth was important, the requirement to give more than one took. There were over three hundred examples listed in the Words of Founding, religions that could have been. Might have been. In other times, in another world. The Path was to study them, learn from their moral codes. A few rules were central. Do not seek lust without commitment. See the strengths in all flaws. Pray and meditate fifteen minutes a day. And don’t waste time worshipping Harmony. Doing good was the worship.

Propriety is nonsense?” “Too much in high society is built around the idea of making certain you don’t need to trust anyone,” Waxillium said. “Contracts, detailed operating reports, not being seen alone with an eligible member of the opposite gender. If you remove the foundation of trust from a relationship, then what is the point of that relationship?

That’s a fundamental of Allomancy, you see. Steel is just iron with a pinch of carbon in it, but that makes all the difference. This aluminum has something else in it too—less than one percent. I think it might be ekaboron, but that’s really just a hunch. A little pinch. It works for men too, oddly. A tiny change can result in creating an entirely new person. How like metals we are.…

He’s fine,” Wayne said, holding the door open for them. “I got quite near my entire rusted back blown off earlier, if you’ll kindly recall, and I didn’t hear nearly an ounce of the sympathy you’re showin’ him.” “That’s different,” Marasi said, walking past him. “What? Why? ’Cuz I can heal?” “No,” she said, “because—even after knowing you only a short time—I’m fairly certain that on one level or another, you deserve to get blown up every now and again.

was

The city has a large number of constables,” Tillaume said. “And they are quite capable in their jobs. Our house, however, has but one high lord. Thousands depend on you, sir.” Tillaume nodded his head in respect, then moved to begin lighting some candles in the bedroom.

with a scruffy man who looked like a beggar, dressed all in black.

What’s our legacy? What have we accomplished? Don’t you ever feel like you never actually grew up? That everyone else did, but you’re secretly faking?

- ¿Puedes derrotarlos tú solo? -medio susurró, medio silabeó Marasi para Wayne, que sonrió y respondió en silencio, moviendo tan solo los labios a su vez: - ¿Le pican las pelotas a un tío sin manos?

I need your help,” Waxillium called back. “I need you to stick your head in a bucket of water and slowly count to a thousand!

To the contrary, these people wanted something stable, something that would let them sustain their communities or forge new ones. Rioting was rarely caused by greed, but frequently by frustration and hopelessness.

stolen.

Working with criminals day in, day out could change a man. You began to see things the way they did. You started to think like them.

Act like you were important, act like you were angry, and people just wanted to get out of your way. Basic psychology, that was.

Oh, I’ll fight him. Kill him, if I have to. Wax chose the wrong side. Men like him, men like me, we have a choice. Serve the people or serve the wealthy. He abandoned his right to protection the moment he returned to this city and started mingling with them.

Don’t worry. You’re pretty enough, particularly through the coppers, if you know what I mean.” “The coppers?” “Sure. Word with a lot of curves, like you. You have a pretty accent too, and some nice bounce to you in the cloud area.” “Dare I ask what that is?” “The white, puffy things that float high above the fruitful land where the seeds are planted.

You are fools!” Miles yelled at the firing squad. “One day, the men of gold and red, bearers of the final metal, will come to you. And you will be ruled by them.” They fired again.

It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.

If your Allomancy and Feruchemy share a metal, you can access its power tenfold. It’s complicated. You store an attribute inside the metal, then burn it to release the power. It’s called Compounding. By the legends, it’s the way the Sliver gained immortality.

I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk," Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear. "As she seems likely to throw a cow at you, just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

But it seems that either one - good or evil - has to be pursued for it to be significant. People today ... it seems they are good, or sometimes evil, mostly by inertia, not by choice. They act as their surroundings prepare them to act.

Perhaps you should,” Steris replied. “Er. Yes. How’s your health?” “Suitable.” “So is Waxillium,” Wayne added. They all turned to him. “You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable.

When she fought, she was the blade. When she loved, she was the kiss.