Best 8360 quotes in «fighting quotes» category

Love was not enough to fight or i was not worth for fight.

Love was not enough to fight or I was not worth to fight.

Loving a warrior is hard. Dying in the line of duty is an honor to them. They would rather take that road than to dishonor their sacred oath

Luka—turn your wheel so I need not slay this woman!

Lydia displays her right hand and instantly bathed the room with a blinding light. It lasted only a moment before it drew back into her palm. “I can fix you if you’re ever broken.

Madoka: Won't anyone notice that Mami-san is dead? Homura: Mami Tomoe's only relatives are distant relations. It will be quite some time before anyone files a missing persons report. When one dies on that side of the wards, not even a body is left behind. She'll wind up forever a "missing person"... That is what happens to magical girls in the end. Madoka: ...That's too cruel! Mami-san has been fighting all alone for a long time for everyone's sake! For no one to even notice that she's gone... That's just too lonely a fate... Homura: It is just that kind of contract that gives us the power in the first place. It isn't for anyone else's sake. We fight on for the sake of our own prayer. So for no one to notice... for the world to forget us... That is just something we have to accept.

Madoka: I'm always... making somebody else fight for me. I can't do anything... Does that make me a coward? Kyōko: Why do you gotta be a magical girl? Madoka: "Why"...? Kyōko: ...This work isn't about playing around. When the job's about putting yourself in harm's way, the only ones who do it are the poor slobs who don't have any other choice. The others who are surrounded by loving families and have the whole world ahead of 'em... the idiots who become magical girls on a whim... They're the ones I can't accept. I just wanna crush 'em! ...Someday the time may come when you have your back to a wall and you gotta fight. You can think about that stuff when the time comes.

Many want to be a warrior but they don't know what a lonely, tough, or pain staking journey it is. Warriors have to fight on behalf of the defenseless, defend what is right, as well as fight believers and non-believers alike. In reality, few like warriors because they confront their own, and their own think they're above being confronted. The warrior, you see, most often walks alone.

Max?' he asked. 'Yeah?' '...What are you doing?' 'Shooting people.

May the games be ever in your favour

Men are always ready to fight; it's tenderness that scares them.

Men tend to fight differently with a woman than they do with men. The overwhelming majority of fights between men and women start with the man attacking from behind, and almost instantly end on the ground with the woman on the bottom. So a good female fighter needs to know how to fight on her back.

Men are always ready to fight; it's feeling, tenderness, that scares them to death.

...my father, [was] a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee. At worst? He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room ... I'm sure he told himself: 'I never hit her'. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun.

More people have died in the name of religion than any other cause on earth. Is massacring God's creations really serving God - or the devil? And what father would want to see his children constantly divided and fighting? What God would allow a single human life to be sacrificed for monetary gain? Again, the Creator or the devil?

Most people who watch a fight think it's all about the muscle: hitting harder, moving faster. And, yeah, sometimes it looked that way. But telling somebody that you won a fight by hitting the other person harder and more often was like telling somebody that the way you kept from drowning was by moving your arms and legs.

Mother Mary wants to draft two more kids,” Astrid told Sam. “Okay. Approved.” “Dahra says we’re running low on kids’ Tylenol and kids’ Advil, she wants to make sure it’s okay to start giving them split adult pills.” Sam spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “What?” “We’re running low on kid pills, Dahra wants to split adult pills.” Sam rocked back in the leather chair designed for a grown man. “Okay. Whatever. Approved.” He took a sip of water from a bottle. The wrapper on the bottle said “Dasani” but it was tap water. The dishes from dinner—horrible homemade split-pea soup that smelled burned, and a quarter cabbage each—had been pushed aside onto the sideboard where in the old days the mayor of Perdido Beach had kept framed pictures of his family. It was one of the better meals Sam had had lately. The fresh cabbage tasted surprisingly good. There was little more than smears on the plates: the era of kids not eating everything was over. Astrid puffed out her cheeks and sighed. “Kids are asking why Lana isn’t around when they need her.” “I can only ask Lana to heal big things. I can’t demand she be around 24/7 to handle every boo-boo.” Astrid looked at the list she had compiled on her laptop. “Actually, I think this involved a stubbed toe that ‘hurted.’” “How much more is on the list?” Sam asked. “Three hundred and five items,” Astrid said. When Sam’s face went pale, she relented. “Okay, it’s actually just thirty-two. Now, don’t you feel relieved it’s not really three hundred?” “This is crazy,” Sam said. “Next up: the Judsons and the McHanrahans are fighting because they share a dog, so both families are feeding her—they still have a big bag of dry dog food—but the Judsons are calling her Sweetie and the McHanrahans are calling her BooBoo.” “You’re kidding.” “I’m not kidding,” Astrid said. “What is that noise?” Sam demanded. Astrid shrugged. “I guess someone has their stereo cranked up.” “This is not going to work, Astrid.” “The music?” “This. This thing where every day I have a hundred stupid questions I have to decide. Like I’m everyone’s parent now. I’m sitting here listening to how little kids are complaining because their older sisters make them take a bath, and stepping into fights over who owns which Build-A-Bear outfit, and now over dog names. Dog names?” “They’re all still just little kids,” Astrid said. “Some of these kids are developing powers that scare me,” Sam grumbled. “But they can’t decide who gets to have which special towel? Or whether to watch The Little Mermaid or Shrek Three?” “No,” Astrid said. “They can’t. They need a parent. That’s you.

Mungu ni mwingi wa hekima, lakini kwa nini alimuumba Shetani? Kwa sababu, Shetani wakati mwingine ni hekima. Ukiendelea kupigwa, bila wewe kupiga, unaweza kuumia, familia yako inaweza kuumia pia! Kuepusha matatizo ya familia yako, wakati mwingine unahitaji kupigana.

My father was a Catholic, a coal miner in the Big Pit. My mother a Jew. A charwoman, when she could find the work. They didn’t fit in Wales. Nor in the U.K., either. They didn’t fit with each other all that well, for that matter. They fought every day for as long as I can remember and loved each other more than anyone I’ve ever known. At least they did right up till a night when he looked right and not left at a train crossing in Chepstow and ended up half a mile from where he’d started, dead as the Ghost. Looking for a job, he was. Turned out he didn’t need one.

My heart had been crush torn and crumble but I'm still here and I'm not broken I'm still fighting my way out

Military men say that troops can stand twenty percent losses; more than that, they go to pieces. But we had many an outfit with only twenty percent survivors and they went on fighting.

. . . most martial artists want to know how A technique is done, A seasoned Sensei will demonstrate why

Murphy hakupenda kupoteza muda. Alinyanyuka na kumimina risasi, Mungu akamsaidia akadondosha wawili huku wengine wakipotea kwa kuruka vibaya na kukwepa. Kwa kasi Murphy alikimbia huku ameinama mpaka katika milango mikubwa ya nje, ambayo sasa ilikuwa wazi. Hapo akasita. Chochote kingeweza kumpata kwa nje kama hangekuwa mwangalifu. Bunduki yake ilishakwisha risasi. Aliitupa na kuchungulia nje akaona adui mmoja akikatisha kwenda nyuma ambako ndiko mashambulizi yalikokuwa yakisikika sasa. Murphy hakumtaka huyo. Aligeukia ndani kuona kama kulikuwa na bunduki aichukue lakini hata kisu hakikuwepo. Akiwa bado anashangaa, ghafla alitokea adui – kwa ndani – na kurusha risasi, bahati nzuri akamkosa Murphy. Murphy, kama mbayuwayu, aliruka na kusafiri hewani hapohapo akadondoka nyuma ya tangi la gesi karibu na milango ya nje. Alipoona vile, adui alidhani Murphy alidondoka mbali. Alibung’aa asijue la kufanya. Wasiwasi ulipomzidi alishindwa kuvumilia. Alishika bunduki kwa nguvu na kupiga kelele, "Yuko hukuuu!" Halafu akajificha ili Murphy asimwone. Lakini Murphy alikuwa akimwona.

My face was growing hot, but I kept talking. "You're the only one who believes in me most of the time." He shook his head. "You keep us going. Everybody knows that." "But you're the one who keeps me going. You're what I'm fighting for in all this.

My name Quan. Quan Nguyen. This Kim-Ly, wife. We next door. Do nails. We with Mr. Blaylock. He fight, we fight. We come here from Viet Nam. This good country, but sometimes, good people in good country have to fight.

Never lose hope, though everything's bleak, though you feel so weak. Never shrink back, never look back, especially when you know that you're fighting for the right reasons, for the right people.

No. See, when you throw up you're vomiting, but when you throw down you're starting a fight, as in throwing down the gauntlet." "Ohhhh," he said. "I thought you were speaking literally." "I do beg your pardon. Let's literally throw up, but figuratively throw down.

Never use damaging personal information to invalidate your adversary and, by implication, his contentions. ... If you watch your words when you fight, the issue can usually be resolved.

No, not my spirit, just my ego, and my arms, and my chest, and my back, but luckily they are just bruised.” Squanto responded, “I fear you may not be so lucky.

Not being intimidated has the power to intimidate.

Nosoi?” Percy planted his feet in a fighting stance. “You know, I keep thinking, I have now killed every single thing in Greek mythology. But the list never seems to end.” “You haven’t killed me yet,” I noted. “Don’t tempt me.

Not my finest hour," he says, shaking his head. "You realize you did it for no reason," I say. I tell him about talking to my dad and explain that I was crying because of that. "That information would have been useful BEFORE I shoved him in the pool.

On the one hand you had people constantly fighting Hell; on the other, you had people constantly fighting Hell on earth.

Oh, how we could blossom if we didn't have to fight to the death to merely exist!

Oh sure, everyone else charges monsters and it's brave, I do it once and I'm a madman.

One good punch from Rube on me would send the sky into my head and the clouds into my lungs. I just always tried to stay up.

On the line beside Describe your family, I wrote, "Bad." What is your favorite subject in school? "None." List three of your favorite activities. "Soccer, ballet, and fighting." Two of those favorite activities were lies but one of them was the truth. I am fond of fighting.

Our apartment didn’t have any good doors to slam. If you wanted to slam a door, you would either end up in the hallway or trapped in the bathroom. Those were the only options.

Peace ain't worth fighting for.

Our weakness is our opponent’s strength.

Patches don’t look it, but when attached to your soul they can get pretty heavy. They go over the holes in your soul, like when you patch a sock. When you have a hole in your soul, it’s because you’re hurting from something. I don’t know if you noticed, but that girl had a lot of holes.

People always say that in England we lead shallow lives. Our lives must be shallow because we live in a country where nobody believes in anything any more. My whole life, I've been told: 'Western civilization? An old bitch gone in the teeth,' And so people say, go to Israel. Because in Israel at least people are fighting. In Israel, they're fighting for something they believe in.

Power is given only to those you allow to have power over you. No man was born with a master. The only master of all is the Creator, and he created all men to be free. Freedom is a God-given right, not a human-granted gift. No man should have to fight to breathe in good health and peace.

Pleasure, ecstasy, they cannot seem to bear: their escape from it is in violence, in drinking and fighting and apparently inescapable----And so why should not their religion drive them to crucifixion of themselves and one another? he thinks.

Poets, like fighters, both reap the benefits of roadwork.

Ravings, in short, jealousy of the past, the worst kind of all.

Promise me,” Yasmine said softly, “that if you die, you will die fighting to return to me.

Remember: God's grief at the unspeakable things we do to one another is beyond measuring, but so is His mercy. It might seem a terrible thing to say to people who've lost and suffered so much at the hands of hatred and violence. But true courage is not to hate our enemy, any more than to fight and kill him. To love him, to love in the teeth of his hate—that is real bravery. That ought to earn people m-m-medals.

Regardless of what others may tell you, you only need two Mexican-Americans for a Mexican standoff.

Semua itu ada esensinya, untuk mendapatkan secara cepat sih bisaa,tapi dg esensi, sesuatu bisa mnjadi lebih indah, lebih hidup, ada kenangannya, dan menjadi masa lalu.