Best 8360 quotes in «fighting quotes» category

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.

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.

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

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

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.

Seeing the enemy as human. A general's ultimate nightmare.

Sarra looked at her daughter and said reproachfully, "Speaking of war, I never raised you to be always fighting and killing. That's not woman's work." "It's needful, Ma. You taught me a woman has to know how to defend herself." "I never!" gasped Sarra, indignant. "You taught me when you were murdered in your own house," Daine said quietly.

She didn’t see what everyone else saw. She was too busy fighting for more; for the next victory, in whatever shape it might come- as small as counting the exact number of steps in a flight of stairs, as big as getting in the Ivy League. For a moment, sometimes longer, these victories slowed the treadmill on which her mind churned, the one that made her feel she could never keep up.

Shattered, broken and still can fight for what I believe in and make my dreams come true I won't give up never

She could spin it between her legs, skip with it, twirl it around her neck and transfer it from one arm to the other. Shelly hooped because she enjoyed it; it calmed her whenever she would have an argument or a bad day at school, and it also allowed her to think. Today, she needed to hoop more than ever.

She knew very well that people fell out, even stormily, and then made up. But she did not know how to start - she simply did not have the trick of it, the row that cleared the air, and could never quite believe that hard words could be unsaid or forgotten.

Shelly shook her head and made sure she had plenty of space so that she wouldn’t hit anything. As many times before, she kept the hoop close to her waist and then twirled it with small, tight bursts of speed. As the hoop gathered in momentum it started to give off a hum that soon took on a light blue illumination far brighter than the streetlamps. It was so bright, that it lit up the entire backyard.

She swung her fist at Nicolae’s head. He raised an arm to block the blow, and she delivered a killing stab with her wooden dagger. Nicolae laughed, staggering dramatically to the ground. “Dead, again, at the hands of the ugliest girl in creation.” He stuck out his tongue, face contorted in a grimace. Lada kicked him in the stomach. “I am no girl. Who is next?” The other Janissaries, gathered in a loose circle around Lada and Nicolae, shuffled their feet and avoided eye contact. Nicolae pushed himself up on an elbow. “Really? Cowards!” “I still have bruises from the last time.” “I cannot sit without pain.” “She fights dirty.” Ivan did not even respond, having never forgiven Lada for besting him when they were introduced. He refused to fight her and rarely acknowledged her presence. Lada laughed, showing all her sharp teeth. “Because when you are on the battlefield, honor will mean so much. You will die with a blade between your ribs, secure in the knowledge that you fought with manners.” She picked up her dull practice sword, abandoned on the edge of the circle, and swung it through the air, sweeping it across the line of the Janissaries’ collective throats.

Silence isn't always agreement. Sometimes people no longer argue because they no longer care.

Shoot faceless, white blobs. Roger that Menace, Gamma Kitten One over and out.

Somehow her hula hoop had cut into the driver’s side door like the vehicle was made of cheese.

Some days I feel like I will die for them. Some days, with them.

So how you're gonna play this?" Trenton asked. "Divide and conquer." "Divide what?" "His head from the rest of his body." Trenton nodded quickly. "Good plan.

So much hate to go around, it's hard not to hate back. Much harder than learning to fight back.

Sometimes adversity becomes the fuel in which we run on.

Sometimes battles are unavoidable.

Sometimes, situation may be uncomfortable but must endure.

Sometime, somewhere, life always comes to a fight, and peace always comes to an end.

Soon, all the children were chanting it. “No school! No school!

Soon it would be his turn. Kaine wondered how he would meet Death. His ship was a mess, in every sense of the word. Systems were in disarray, damaged equipment malfunctioning, and control panels shattered by blaster-fire littered the decks. In the fighting, severe hull damage had caused parts of the ship to be sealed off. Dead bodies – or raw red chunks of them – lay everywhere. The corridors were dark where the lights had failed. His footsteps echoed eerily as he ran down them. He’d been on the run for what felt like days. He felt naked, his tattered, sweat-drenched tunic clinging to his body, especially under his breastplate. Fatigue had caused him to discard his body amour. It was of no realistic use anyway, and just made him hotter and sweatier, made stealthy movement more difficult – and weighed him down.

Take a shower. Wash away every trace of yesterday. Of smells. Of weary skin. Get dressed. Make coffee, windows open, the sun shining through. Hold the cup with two hands and notice that you feel the feeling of warmth. 
 You still feel warmth.
Now sit down and get to work. Keep your mind sharp, head on, eyes on the page and if small thoughts of worries fight their ways into your consciousness: threw them off like fires in the night and keep your eyes on the track. Nothing but the task in front of you.  Get off your chair in the middle of the day. Put on your shoes and take a long walk on open streets around people. Notice how they’re all walking, in a hurry, or slowly. Smiling, laughing, or eyes straight forward, hurried to get to wherever they’re going. And notice how you’re just one of them. Not more, not less. Find comfort in the way you’re just one in the crowd. Your worries: no more, no less. Go back home. Take the long way just to not pass the liquor store. Don’t buy the cigarettes. Go straight home. Take off your shoes. Wash your hands. Your face. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. It’s still beating. Still fighting. Now get back to work.
Work with your mind sharp and eyes focused and if any thoughts of worries or hate or sadness creep their ways around, shake them off like a runner in the night for you own your mind, and you need to tame it. Focus. Keep it sharp on track, nothing but the task in front of you. Work until your eyes are tired and head is heavy, and keep working even after that. Then take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes.
Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. 
You’re doing just fine.
You’re doing fine. I’m doing just fine.

Take a chance and risk it all or play it safe and suffer defeat.

Speed will follow when the mechanism of the movements is more assured.

Standing up for yourself is about more than flinging barbed-wire insults around. Its about picking your battles, knowing when to fight, knowing exactly what and who is worth fighting for.

Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. You’re doing just fine.

That’s what resistance looks like, Merlin. It’s not one glorious, shining victory. It’s a torch that you keep burning, no matter what.

That's right,' Mel said. 'Some vassal would come along and spear the bastard in the name of love. Or whatever the fuck it was they fought over in those days.' Same things we fight over these days,' Terri said. Laura said, 'Nothing's changed.

That's what I like most about her; she isn't fearless. She's scared, but she keeps fighting. She has moments of doubt, when she runs away, but she comes back. She doesn't give up. Sometimes she fails, she falls down, she makes mistakes. She's real.

The afternoon breeze would incite to a weird and flabby activity all that crowded mass of clothing, with its vague suggestions of drowned, mutilated and flattened humanity. Trunks without heads waved at you arms without hands; legs without feet kicked fantastically with collapsible flourishes; and there were long white garments, that taking the wind fairly through their neck openings edged with lace, became for a moment violently distended as by the passage of obese and invisible bodies. On these days you could make out that ship at a great distance by the multi-coloured grotesque riot going on abaft her mizzen-mast.

That fighting of a battle without belief is, I think, the sorriest task which ever falls to the lot of any man.

That's odd. It looks almost as if Nick is picking a fight with that elephant." "Well, the elephant started it." "That's irrelevant. Fighting with civilians is against the rules. Go break it up." -Admiral Breya Andreyasn & Sergeant Schlock

The answer to enemies who heal annoyingly fast is always, always decapitation. That is why swords will never go out of style.

The attack came without warning, in the pre-dawn stillness on the day they were due to leave. A series of solid concussions shook the walls and sent Simon scrambling from his bunk. Max thrust a handgun at him, which he immediately fumbled and dropped.

...the band broke into a cover of "Hungry Like the Wolf." I smiled up at mine. He was sexy even in soaking wet blue jeans. "Dance with me.

The fittest person survives! The fighting man succeeds! He who Fights to Fit, will Survive to Succeed!

THE FLECKS OF MY ENEMY'S BLOOD THAT STAIN THIS SUIT. THEY'RE MY PRIDE AND JOY. "THIS SUIT LOOKS WHITE BECAUSE OF THE RED OF THE BLOOD ON IT." THAT'S WHY I FIGHT. FOR YOU BIG BRO. THE AWSOMELY INSANE. TO MAKE YOU AWSOMELY HAPPY... WHETHER AT AOGIRI OR AT GOAT, I'VE FOUGHT AT THE VERY FRONT LINES. ALL THE WAY. AND TOWARDS THE END, I EVEN LEARNED A FEW NEW WORDS. I HAD FUN. IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN A FEW MORE WORDS, I'D HAVE BEEN ABLE TO TALK TO YOU MORE, BIG BRO. I THINK ABOUT THAT SOMETIMES. I DON'T THINK JUST LIVING IS THAT BIG OF A DEAL. I REALLY BELIEVE I'LL BE ABLE TO SEE YOU IF I DIE. SO I'M NOT SCARED. DEATH ISN'T THAT BAD. I HATE THE FACT THAT I LOST, THOUGH BUT YOU KNOW, BRO. I... I'M NOT SAD AT ALL. NAKI

The best things in this world are meant to be fought for." -Kearney

The fight migjt be over but nobody wins if you both go home in body bags.

The hall erupted into punches, blows, and kicks. The dancing ended but the band played on. The older men escorted the women from the premises and so ended a bloody-good night.

The next second a great blast of hot light erupted over Toad and Jed, but they didn't stop. Toad was trying to punch every bit of Jed that he could reach. There was a great howling of fright and a heavy-booted foot nearly missed Toad's fingers. Jed knocked Toad off him and rose to his feet. He swung his foot back, readying to kick. With a roar, Hazel flew at Jed. Her sharp claws latched onto his back, piercing through the leather vest. Jed roared in pain. His hands scrabbled for Hazel, but she flew in the air, beating her wings against his face. With a bellow, he turned on his heel and raced out of the pub.

The important thing is to convince people to make and share useful things. Fighting with greedy douches who don't share doesn't do that. Making more, living under conditions of abundance, that does it.

Then come. Let me send you to see if you have lived your life serving a deity or a dream.