He'd felt a disconnect these last months. These last years... it was as if life for everyone continued, but Kaladin was separate from them, incapable of interacting. Like he was a painting hanging in a hallway, watching life stream past.
"Ten spears go to battle," he whispered, "and nine shatter. Did that war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break."
"This is the sacrifice, isn't it?" Taravangian said softly. "Someone must bear the responsibility. Someone must be dragged down by it, ruined by it. Someone must stain their soul so others may live."