Frustration slid down next to the pile of books, if the clinic found out what he was doing they would stop him. He couldn't carry all of these books around.
He considered ripping the pages he needed out. It would be effective, but still.
Frustration flipped to the Ars Arcanum at the back of Warbreaker, and placed his hands against the page. A tear ran down his cheek as he braced himelf to rip page from spine. The ultimate desecration for such art. Then he stopped.
Wait, breath. There was something he could do with breath.
Setting Warbreaker aside Frustration grabbed Rhythm of War and flipped to the epigraph.
"Come on Cephandrius don't fail me now."
And there is was. Breath could store memories.
Frustration pulled a single breath from his shirt, a comparibly small amount of investiture, something his own soul would easily hide, even from the clinic.
Frustration then went through the Ars Arcanum each cosmere novel storing the contents inside of the breath he held, and then through other sections of Elantris and Rhythm of War just to be safe.