Best 65 quotes in «king arthur quotes» category

I mean,” he said, “that by your own showing, the greatest threat to heaven comes from within the ranks of the angels themselves. Before you can prove to me that heroes can defeat villains with nothing but the purest chivalric ideals, you must convince me that heroes do exist, and that villains are not a fanciful tale for children. You must tell me, sir, if you dare, that you are incorruptible, and that your colleagues and commanders are as pure as you.

In the dim sunset Perceval looked the glade over and said, “Does your lady wife think so little of sending you out on deadly errands?” Sir Gareth unstrapped the blanket from behind his saddle. “It’s our fourth child. I’ve grown accustomed to it.” “Of course,” Perceval said with a grin, “even dragonfire might burn less hot than my lady aunt’s temper.” Sir Gareth cuffed Perceval across the ear. “For that piece of insolence, youngster, you take the first watch. And be glad you are so tender in years that I dare not risk my honour upon you in single combat to prove my Lynet as sweet-tempered as she should be.

I myself beheld the King Charge at the head of all his Table Round, And all his legions crying Christ and him, And break them; and I saw him, after, stand High on a heap of slain, from spur to plume Red as the rising sun with heathen blood, And seeing me, with a great voice he cried, "They are broken, they are broken!" for the King, However mild he seems at home, nor cares For triumph in our mimic wars, the jousts— For if his own knight cast him down, he laughs Saying, his knights are better men than he— Yet in this heathen war the fire of God Fills him: I never saw his like: there lives No greater leader.

In our day, we thought that the bards would sing of us for generations to come, but we did not believe it. But in fact Arthur now occupies a higher throne than he ever did when he was alive. The fragments of all our lives have been put together to form legend. Camelot has become the nursery of Britain: the glorious past that never was and always will be.

It was like listening to the universe in motion. Planets spinning on their appointed courses, the lives of men intersecting and parting, the unimaginable harmony of the human body itself in hierarchy and order, were all implied in the song, but something greater as well: the genius of the composer, which must surely approach the miraculous. Perceval closed his eyes and was lost in the weaving music.

I want you too, so much,” she whispered. He murmured in her ear, “Then take me.

It is the kind of stoicism which had been seen as characteristic of Anglo-Saxon poetry, perhaps nowhere better expressed than in 'The Battle of Maldon' where the most famous Saxon or English cry has been rendered - 'Courage must be the firmer, heart the bolder, spirit must be the greater, as our strength grows less'. That combination of bravery and fatalism, endurance and understatement, is the defining mood of Arhurian legend.

It is dangerous to become attached to a du Lac. He will break your heart, and you will not recover.

Just when I was coping with the idea that I’d necked with a werewolf,” she muttered. “Just when I was beginning to flirt with the idea of possibly… possibly inviting sex with a werewolf. I’m trying to imagine how I would tell this story to my best friend. I think it would go something like this: See, I’ve never seen him in daylight. He’s just this werewolf guy.” Beside her, he had stiffened. Very quietly, he said, “Sex?

Merlin Speaks: Ô mighty trees of Avalon release sap and seeds into hearts and minds So Arthur’s dream can reveal echoes of futures past So Camelot’s glory is forever ingrained in the rich forests and mountains’ mysterious valleys where a once and future King lowered his sword and lay in the arms of his sweet Lady of Forests and Lakes

Kendall slapped his butt. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a nice ass?” “No one that matters.

Look out your window on a morning in spring, ten or twenty years hence, and perhaps you'll see me coming.

Oh, Perceval, a falcon is born to hunt, and so are you. One day you will hunt indeed--but not yet." "Why? Am I not ready?" She looked at him sadly and said, "Give me a little longer.

People keep telling me that I’m a legend in Merthyr and a legend in many other places. Here’s my understanding on that, what’s a legend? I don’t really know what a legend is, I don’t even know the word. I’m not a King Arthur reincarnate either. I might be one of the Round Table, but I’m not King Arthur.

Perceval said to the Grail Knight: “Will you break a spear with me this day?” He did not expect Galahad to look down on him from Lancelot’s immense height and say, gently, as if he knew it must disappoint, “Sir, I cannot.” “No? Well, there are others to fight,” said Perceval, trying not to show how vexed he felt to be denied the honour. “Not for any lack of love,” Galahad added. “But for the regard in which I hold you, Perceval of Wales.

[P]ray thee Pilgrim for the noble souls of Artur and Gwenhwyfawr, united once more here in peace. First King of all Great Britain. First faithful servant of the Vicar of Christ and Universal Church. Let all men who seek rule, be measured according to thy virtue.

Oh dire, dreadful death, you drag your heels. Why dawdle and draw back? You drown my heart.

The gods do not visit you to remind you what you know already.

Sir Ector looked into the fire, fidgeting with something in his pocket. "I have something for you," he said at last. "It was your mother's." And he drew out the thing in his pocket and held it up to her. The ring Blanche took from him was antique silver, cabochon-set with a glimmering moonstone. Her mother's ring! Blanche folded it into her hand and held tightly to the only thing her parents had left her.

...[T]he king is lying down, severely wounded; one of his faithful companions, Lucan the Butler, approaches, in tears, to say a final farewell. Arthur stands up to embrace him, "holding him so tightly against his chest that he smothers him, crushes his heart and kills him." This is a strange and dramatic event, unexpected, serving no plot purpose, but an event that recalls that Arthur was in origin a bear-king endowed with superhuman strength: like the animal he could kill his enemy in hand to hand combat simply by pressing him against his chest. The king is not aware of his animal strength, but even as he is dying, he retains the power to cause death by a mere embrace, a power that no human being possesses. (p.53-54)

So endeth the story of the winning of Excalibur, and may God give unto you in your life, that you may have His truth to aid you, like a shining sword, for to overcome your enemies; and may He give you Faith (for Faith containeth Truth as a scabbard containeth its sword), and may that Faith heal all your wounds of sorrow as the sheath of Excalibur healed all the wounds of him who wore that excellent weapon. For with Truth and Faith girded upon you, you shall be as well able to fight all your battles as did that noble hero of old, whom men called King Arthur.

Then this is for you," Galahad said, and drew a knife from the pouch at his belt. It was an odd little thing, T-hilted and small enough to fit into a woman's hand. Its translucent blade, only an inch and a half long, was bound with scrolling bronze wire to the bone hilt. "Have a care. Obsidian is sharper than anything else in the world, sharp enough to make sunlight bleed.

The problem with Gildas is that he was a moaner, obsessed with a golden past that never existed and whingeing about the current state of affairs at the time of his writing. He is not, of course, an historian in the modern sense but he is one of a long line of chroniclers who is over-pessimistic about their own times and bewails the loss of a better past.

The world eclipses and it’s just her and him. No it’s just her eyes and his soul. Her eyes expose and violate him, she turns him inside out. Then, her eyes drop him like a boring toy.

The world is an ambitious business. It continuously expands and evolves. But people are lazy and God is far too lovely to do something about it.

That night she dreamed about the King again. She stood in a riverside meadow between greenwood and castle. Overhead the sun shone gilt in a sky like powdered lapis and struck golden sparks from the King's blood-red dragon banner.

Thinking and planning is one side of life; doing is another. A man cannot be doing all the time.

Used every man according to his capacity.

Waiting for one’s execution is worse than dying. To seek my beheading is glory. Who went to his execution willingly? Jesus did. Jesus even dragged his cross half way to Golgotha. I think he would have nailed himself to the cross if he had to.

We are the archers with the bows that spring our children forward. Life does not go backward, nor does it tarry in yesterday. It is not a circle, but an arrow. It flies forward with the great express of Love.

We shall have made such a blaze that men will remember us on the other side or the dark.

You’re not much fun on a honeymoon.

You think about sex a lot.” “Next best thing to doing it.

To many-towered Camelot

Wake up! You’re a sacred soul and glory is yours for the taking.

Well then, take this thought with you for the dark hours to come: It is a ludicrous fiction that love conquers all, but it can, in fact, conquer quite a lot. I am Iason of the Blood, Knight of Arthur, King of the Britons, reborn into dark service in the year of Our Lord five hundred and sixty. My power is vast, and for none to arrogate but by my will and decree. My services are engaged, Selina. Tell me what you need to ease your pain in this, and it is yours.

Who so pulleth out this sword from this stone and anvil is trueborn King of all Britain.

You still haven’t told me what King Edward will do when he has all four relics,’ Robert said, fixing Humphrey with his gaze. ‘We aren’t privy to all his plans, Robert, as I’ve told you. Only the men of the Round Table know his full intentions. We have to prove ourselves worthy to be trusted as they are.’ ‘Do you not ever wonder?’ Humphrey paused. ‘I just know my king will do what is best for my kingdom.’ Robert said nothing. He thought of his own kingdom, beleaguered by Edward’s interference, and a ghost of a threat drifted in his mind. But even as it appeared, he pushed it away. Scotland was its own kingdom, with its own king. It wasn’t Wales or Ireland, fractured and isolated. However much Edward had desired the Crown of Arthur he had come here, first and foremost, to put down a rebellion. Yet still, on this bleak shore with Humphrey beside him, Robert felt a sense of standing at a crossroads with many paths leading away before him. In his mind they all led into darkness.

You were dreaming?” A hell of a dream from the looks of it. He released her arms. The moonlight flickered in her eyes, and even in the dark he saw her flush. “I know,” she said, staring at him. There was a breathy tone to her voice that made him think things he shouldn’t. God, she smelled good. What was it about her skin? He didn’t try to move and she didn’t either. “What was it about?” “You…me.” It was a struggle to keep from pressing closer to her. ‘What were we doing?” “I could show you.” His throat was as tight as his groin. “Show me.

A great ruler, a great court, a great kingdom, these texts suggest never exist unto themselves, as stable, fully actualized entities, and, therefore, are never experienced in their plenitude in the present. Instead, they are always remembered as something that occured in the past or anticipated as something will reoccur in the future. Insofar as they are experienced in the current time, it is only for a brief and evanescent moment, overshadowed by the knowledge that it will soon vanish. For a realist, the fact that the excellence of a person, a place, or a time is not appreciated in its own time proves that it was never actually as excellent as it seemed. For a Romantic, however, there exist a people, places, and times whose excellence can only be appreciated Arthur always has to be - to quote the Alliterative Morte Arthure (ca.1400) - "the once and future king

It is all true, or it ought to be; and more and better besides.

You end up with this succession of periods when everything was marvellous - from King Arthur to the medieval times, Ivanhoe, chivalry, Henry VIII, Merry England, the Blitz

. . . and it came out that this King Arthur and his knights had done nothing of real note but to kill innocent dragons all around Britain: almost certainly a pack of lies, as Forthing admitted they had not possessed even any guns at the time, and unpleasant lies at that.

A knight will give a lady a ring from his hand and take a kiss from her lips, when he wishes to love her and serve her all his days," she recited, as she had when he was small. She pulled the ring from the chain and held it out to him. "This ring is the knight's who swore to serve me. Take it. One day you may find a lady to wear it.

Anyone can become dangerous if given the right motivation,

And just for the record, I think he needed to be a little more assertive with the woman he loved. That's why he lost her to Lancelot, you know. Lack of assertiveness. A man needs to be ready to lay down his life for the woman he loves. But first he's got to let her know that she's adored.

Arthur might be a king, but he can’t make you come.

Ah Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have betrayed me; for never shall my court be amended by you, but ye will never be sorry for me as I am for you

Arthur without Excalibur was still Arthur.

But even the longest day wears to sunset.