Mistborn

“I’m alive.” “According to a very loose definition of the word.” Kelsier smiled. “It’ll do.”

“Fuzz and I go way back.”

the fragility of his own sanity unnerved him.

Kelsier had never been able to resist a secret.

Whereupon he decked the man across the face, laying him out completely. “Excellent,” Kelsier said, shaking his hand.

somewhere in the cosmere.

and on whether people cared about the greater cosmere or not.

“He’s a short man with black hair—or

the Eyree