Best 8360 quotes in «fighting quotes» category

Everyone was important during the war. Everyone. We worked together and we won.

Fear never leaves you. It just adapts to you. And that’s the meaning of strengthening a warrior spirit from within, as you can’t fight all your battles with the same weapons.

Every warrior walks, lives and sleeps with an armed mind" RjS

Everywhere the same madness: people fighting and crying out for their own destruction.

Fight fire with fire.

Fighting corruption will only be effective when we attack its real cause: the materialism that distorts our virtues.

Fighting for peace is not the solution, but loving for peace is the solution.

Fighting physically signifies spiritual weakness.

Fighting you's the only reward I want,' I said, 'for saving your life.

Fighting is easier than loving, just as giving in to anger is easier than self-control.

Fighting makes you strong, but also callous. I worry I have learned too much of the latter and not enough of the former.

Fighting external monsters is easy in comparison to how we fight those within us.

Fighting for your convictions is important. But finding peace is paramount. Knowing when to fight and when to seek peace is wisdom.

Fighting is never good. But sometimes necessary.

Fighting is the last option but can’t rule it out as an option

Fighting makes us feel alive, until it kills us. If it doesn’t kill us, the pain of sitting alone with ourselves, quietly, under constant assault by our own thoughts and memories of war can easily be enough to make us wish we’d died in battle instead.

For a chic and an honorable full victory, you must make your own fight and win your own battle entirely by yourself! Try to refuse any help to get a pure victory, a victory which belongs merely to yourself!

Frustration in a fight can lead to four things: You give up, you fight harder, you fight worse, or you cheat.

Father Hobbe, his cassock skirts hitched up to his waist, was fighting with a quarterstaff, ramming the pole into French faces. ‘In the name of the Father,’ he shouted, and a Frenchman reeled back with a pulped eye, ‘and of the Son,’ Father Hobbe snarled as he broke a man’s nose, ‘and of the Holy Ghost!

Fighting does not make you a hero. Love does.

Fighting is less effective than doing nothing.

Fighting is not a man thing, it's a human thing.

Fighting and writing’s deepest layers of beauty lie not only in the physical and mental realms of what we know, but also as an incognizable instinct, a realm we will never fully know but will forever feel.

Fights begin and end with handshakes.

God be with you.' 'Thanks, but I think, in battle, I prefer Satan’s company.

Flowers and jewelry worked for most girls as a romantic gesture, but here I was, misty-eyed at watching him show my mother how to stab the shit out of him.

Grand Mage,” Ghastly said, as he put the map away, “did you know the sparrow flies south for the winter?” “What an odd thing to say,” Ravel said, and as he turned, he snapped his palm against the air and Paloma slammed into the wall.” …..“What do you know,” Ravel said, breathing a little faster, “Skulduggery’s silly little code actually works.” “Grand Mage,” Ghastly said, as he put the map away, “did you know the sparrow flies south for the winter?” “What an odd thing to say,” Ravel said, and as he turned, he snapped his palm against the air and Paloma slammed into the wall.” …..“What do you know,” Ravel said, breathing a little faster, “Skulduggery’s silly little code actually works.

Great idea," I said. "Call the police. Call the fucking police.

Growing up, I always had a soldier mentality. As a kid I wanted to be a soldier, a fighter pilot, a covert agent, professions that require a great deal of bravery and risk and putting oneself in grave danger in order to complete the mission. Even though I did not become all those things, and unless my predisposition, in its youngest years, already had me leaning towards them, the interest that was there still shaped my philosophies. To this day I honor risk and sacrifice for the good of others - my views on life and love are heavily influenced by this.

Halfhearted or insincere apologies are often worse than not apologizing at all because recipients find them insulting. If you've done something wrong in your dealings with another person, it's as if there's an infection in your relationship. A good apology is like an antibiotic; a bad apology is like rubbing salt I the wound.

Have you ever taken time to think about the commoners who are slaughtered in wars? Any war! Those who didn’t want the war, those who couldn’t say no, even those who have no voice. Why would another man have the power to declare war on behalf of anyone? Why should people be made to die by the mere fact that someone somewhere decides that the answer to a problem is war? Call me a coward, but war is not an answer to any question.

He regarded marriage as an arbitrary and essentially adversarial relationship, akin to the yoking of prisoners on the chain gang.

He rested his head on top of mine and whispered, "I'm warning you now. I'm a horrible patient." I smiled in spite of myself and pulled back. "Of course you are. That's why you're a doctor.

He that dare not die, dare scarce fight valiantly (475).

He wanted a fight, yes—but he wanted her willing, not besieged, with his name shattering from her lips like a broken shield as she surrendered.

He was painfully aware of the fact that he was in his underwear. Not the best situation in which to fight people.

Hey, bodyguard. You better get down to the gymnasium. This jumbo pixie guy is killing your sister." "Really?" said Butler, unconvinced. "Really. Juliet just does not seem to be herself. She can't put two moves together. It's pathetic, really. Everybody is betting against her." "I see," said Butler, straightening. Mulch held the door. "It's going to make things really interesting when you show up to help." Butler grinned. "I'm not coming to help. I just want to be there when she stops faking." "Ah," said Mulch, comprehension dawning on his face. "So I should switch my bet to Juliet?" "You certainly should" said Butler.

He would have died soon, but more painfully. Anyway, it was Urban Bloodshed Limitation. First rule: limit bloodshed by making sure that none of your own gets spilled.

His face was pale, and he dropped to the floor so that he was half kneeling, half sitting before her. "Please. I can...help you." "No." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her mind felt clearer now. Everything made more sense when she wasn't so hungry. "I don't think I want the help you have." He cradled his bloody arm and tried to stand. "This isn't right. You aren't right. You aren't suppose to be here." "But I am.

How could I forget the man who can break uncountable bones just in a few seconds.

I’d always known that nothing would come between Alex and I, but that was just the “what.” Now that I saw that we could handle what problems we did have in a way that only made us stronger, I finally knew the “how.

Gleave roared. Sav cursed. Hen ran in circles and elf charged.

have you killed me, false thief?

He grabbed me with both hands and began pushing me backward. I lost my balance. The ledge was at an angle, and it was covered with loose gravel. I was less than a foot from the edge. It was at that very moment that the clouds parted. The September sun burst through. The entire world was illuminated. Time shattered into moments. I could see for a hundred miles in every direction. I could see mountain peeks and pristine lakes. And I could somehow feel as well as see the never-ending drop that toyed with me, ruffling my hair, pulling at my back, one step behind me.

He hated weapons, and not just because they'd so often been aimed at him. You got into more trouble if you had a weapon. People shot you instantly if they thought you were going to shoot them. But if you were unarmed, they often stopped to talk. Admittedly, they tended to say things like, "You'll never guess what we're going to do to you, pal," but that took time. And Rincewind could do a lot with a few more seconds. He could use them to live longer in.

He kicked my ass, but he also treated me like a person and not just some girl.

He who disarms your mind disarms you” RjS

He who fights with his hands exerts himself and tires he who fights with his mind wins" RjS

He who fights with guns and knives is a coward! For how easy is it to kill with the single pull of a trigger? And how does human flesh stand to a sharpened metal? Even an idiot can kill with a gun and a knife! A man needs no courage at all to stand behind these things that make him feel invincible and bigger than he ever will be! I don't say that no one should fight! Because battles must be fought, and wars will always be won! But let those who fight, fight with bare hands! The measure of true strength! With his hands and feet and nothing but! The country with truly strong men is able to have soldiers that need not a knife, that need no guns! And if you can soar even higher than that; fight with your pens! Let us all write! And see the substance of the man through his philosophies and through his beliefs! And let one philosophy outdo another! Let one belief outlast another! And let this be how we determine the outcome of a war!

I ain’t never had me a single round in a professional, boxin’ ring. I’m whatcha call a street fighter, a knuckle brawler. Knives, beer bottles, chairs, chains, rocks, sticks, tire irons, and even teeth. Ya name it. I’ve seen ‘em all. And I tell ya what. When it comes to fightin,’ the quickest way to double your money in a fight is to fold it over. That don’t mean ya give up or quit. It means ya work with whatcha got and whatcha know.