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Quote by Brandon Sanderson

“Humans don’t have programming.” “Yes you do. You have too much of it. Conflicting programs, none of it interfacing properly, all calling different functions at the same time—or the same function for contradictory reasons. Yet you ignore it sometimes. That is not a flaw. It is what makes you you.”

Quote by Brandon Sanderson

Book:Skyward

Work

Skyward

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Author

Brandon Sanderson
Brandon Sanderson

Brandon Sanderson, born in December 1975, is a renowned science fiction and fantasy writer in the United States. His works are known for their rich imagination, complex character development, and profound philosophical insights. His representative works include the 'Mistborn' trilogy and the 'The Stormlight Archive' series, among others. more

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“The Ferryman will transport us across the moat,” Chris informed. “Yeah. This seems legit,” Gabriella quipped as Chris helped her onto the boat. Andrew followed behind. “Are you sure this isn’t a trick?” Egnatious asked. Again, uncertainty filtered into Chris’s blue eyes, but he nodded anyway. “This is the only way.”

“Where are you taking me?” Andrew demanded, whirling on the Ferryman. His muscles tensed, hands curling in and out of fists. “To my master.” The voice was ghostly, whispers of black ash and death, words cold and detached. He had an idea who that was but asked anyway: “And who is your master?” No answer came. Andrew’s insatiable rage rose up and swallowed his grief like a yawning ocean mouth, the darkest depths surging to the surface to form a mighty tidal wave. He closed the distance and seized the Ferryman’s gaunt wrist. There was no substance, no life beneath the cloak. The Ferryman slowly turned his hooded head, and Andrew found himself looking into the black hole of a self-contained night. The olfactory of decay was a punch in the face. Andrew released the Ferryman’s wrist and hastily stepped back, rocking the boat as he put distance between him and the unnatural wind spilling from the gaping orifice. Andrew shivered, the tiny hairs on his neck saluting. The cloaked head faced forward again, and the wind died away.”