Sublime

blasé

but on the other hand, isn’t that reality? Won’t most of us die in fairly unclimactic ways, our passing unremarked by almost everyone, our deaths becoming plot points in the narratives of the people around us?

Never to the Night City. The phrase had a rhythm that pleased me, so it lodged itself in my head.

grok,”

She’d always found something steadying in looking at her own clasped hands, but she didn’t know if it was the hands or the shirt, the impeccable white cuffs. Clothes are armor.

apotheosis

Elend’s city … Elend’s people … dying.