Best 438 quotes in «epic quotes» category

It made the woman feel like a thousand seas had come together from all worlds, like faraway lands had been bridged together, and the vastness of the known and the unknown were somehow easier to comprehend.

It’s amazing what desperation can do to a person. It can seep into the heart. Turn us into the very monsters we fight." -Vexis

It’s just you always…” “Run,” I finish for him… I gaze up at him. Soft light plays over his striking features – the hard planes of his cheekbones, his strong jaw, the slight hook in his nose. “I’ll still run, Griffin. The difference now is that I’ll run to you.” He looks at me for a long time, his gray eyes inscrutable. “You’d better.” I arch an eyebrow. “Or you’ll spank me?

I was going straight for Mantis, but then that bloody gas got in my eyes and, I don't know, some massive bloke reared up in front of me. I hit him, but I swear, it was like hiting a wall." Gracious nodded. "You hit a wall." Maybury blinked at him. "I what?" "I saw it. You ran into a cloud of gas and stumbled around for a second until you reached a wall, and then you shrieked and punched it. It was very heroic.

Lost race?” The Prince studied Orayna, trying to see something inhuman in her. “Why have I never heard of these ‘Rathiuel’?” “Because,” Azaroth rapped his knuckles on the Prince’s skull, “you do not care to read.

Lucifer unbound his absolution His purpose took unstoppable form A wyrm whose brilliance blinded Tenacity burned as radiant as the Almighty Lucifer remembered this so vividly A fond memory of when God stood thunderstruck

Most tales carry a kernel of truth, else they're soon forgotten.

My life wasn’t just about one city, or one Epic, anymore. It was about a war. It was about finding a way to stop the Epics. Permanently.

Nestor is the spokesman for the status quo, for the tradition-hallowed belief that institutional power equates with unquestioned authority.

I will kill you, and I shall do so in such a way, this world will cease its wars. The world shall be unified in its mourning, not because it misses you, but because of the atrocities which I, alone, will have wrought upon your mangled corpse. And even after the cannons fall silent, I will never be caught. New monsters will be born into folklore to explain what I have done to you.

Listen little Songkeeper, the voice whispered, and I will sing you a Song.

Listening from the shadows, the Mordant sought lies worthy of embellishments and truths needing to be quashed.

My hands were trembling, but only because of who he was, not because I was scared of him. I oddly felt calmed by his presence. He smiled as he placed his hands in the pockets of his charcoal gray pants. He was finely dressed in a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the top low enough to see where his chest began. It clung to him, accentuating every muscular detail. I shook my head. I had to stop evaluating him. “Is everything okay?” Ethan asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to read my expression. “Huh…oh, yeah, fine.

My life is not less than an EPIC!

My name is Scarlet Stone. I was offered useful traits the day I entered this world. I passed on common sense, opting for the-edge-of-a-knife journey. When I die, I want my gravestone to have the word 'epic' on it somewhere.

No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. ... Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? ... And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea.

Now the day has ended, its brief excitements already an imperfect memory.

Oh, how scary and wonderful it is that words can change our lives simply by being next to each other.

Our women – our wives – are the heart of Calberna. Without them, Calbernan males could not function. We would die. Just as you would die without the heart that beats in your chest.

Once we have total power, what's to keep us from becoming villains ourselves?

Senator. If you call my friend a liar one more time, I will take it badly." "Excuse me?" Arnos said, his eyebrows rising up. "I suggest you find an alternate shortsighted, egomaniacally ridiculous reason to blatantly, recklessly ignore an obvious threat to the Realm simply because you don't wish it to exist. If you cannot restrain yourself from base slander, I will be pleased to meet you in juris macto and personally rip your forked tongue from your head.

Oh, Jatel, I am so used. Would you rid yourself of me?" the knight started to cry. Jatel slowly kissed the woman upon her forehead. To the Gods! how he loved her so. Not for the world entire, sire.

Only through the ancient tradition of storytelling can we enter the magical minds of one another.

Others wield swords, while I wield lies, rewriting the past, corrupting the present, twisting the future.

Over his shoulder, she saw Skulduggery walk in. "Oh, hell," she muttered. Wreath's smile reappeared. "It's Skulduggery, isn't it?" Over his shoulder, she saw Skulduggery walk in. "Oh , hell," she muttered. Wreath's smile reappeared. "It's Skulduggery, isn't it?" "Please don't annoy him." "Me? When have I EVER annoyed the great Skulduggery Pleasant?" Skulduggery arrived at their table. Wreath smile up at him. "Hello." "I will shoot you in the eye," Skulduggery said. Wreath glanced at Valkyrie. "I think I've annoyed him.

Please don't arrest me." "Listen to me, I'm not going to arrest you, ok? I'm not a cop." "Are you sure?" "Am I sure I'm not a cop? yes, I'm sure." "You could be undercover.

Plots within plots, such was the business of killing kings.

Priam and Achilles meet in the very twilight of their lives. Their extinction is certain and there will be no reward for behaving well, and yet, in the face of implacable fate and an indifferent universe, they mutually assert the highest ideals of their humanity.

Put a smile on that face, Valkyrie. You're unique. Easily as unique as I am." "Two freaks in a pod, eh?" His head tilted, amused. "Wouldn't have it any other way.

Reflections of the battlements shimmered in the deep green moat, casting an image of enduring strength, an image that defied the very siege of time.

Scarlett O'Hara wasn't pretty.

She knew them all by name and by nature. Some were aromatic, others beautiful, but all were poisonous, her garden of deathly delights.

She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.

Seek Knowledge, Protect Knowledge, Share Knowledge.

Skulduggery placed both hands on the table and leaned over. "You've heard about me. You've heard about the things I've done." The smirk faded a little. "So?" "So the stories you've heard are nothing compared to the truth, and the truth is nothing compared to what I'll do to you if something happens to Valkyrie. I'm the worst enemy you could ever make, Silas. Look at me and answer honestly, do you believe me?" Nadir swallowed. "Yeah.

Sleep is sweet, whomever it seizes, though he has cares.

So each one of you agrees to disagree with whatever the other one agrees with, but if you both disagree with the same thing, aren't you really in agreement?

Summer queens are fine and fair, with pretty ribbons and flowers in their hair. Winter queens are cold and hard, with frosted crowns made of icy shards.

The cultured court singer of heroic lays disappears along with the heroic spirit of his public, but heroic poetry survives the heroic age and is more long-lived than the society to which it owes its origin. After the decline of the military aristocratic culture, it turns from an exclusive class interest into a universal art. The fact that this declension was so easily brought about, and that the same kind of poetry could be understood and enjoyed by the upper and lower classes almost simultaneously, can only be explained by assuming that the difference in cultural standards between the rulers and the ruled cannot have been anything like so great as in later ages. It is true that from the very beginning the rulers lived in a different sphere from the people, but they were not yet so conscious of the gulf that divided them from the lower classes.

The garden is a miraculous place, and anything can happen on a beautiful moonlit night.

The Greeks shape bronze statues so real they seem to breathe, And carve cold marble until it almost comes to life. The Greeks compose great orations, and measure The heavens so well they can predict the rising of the stars. But you, Romans, remember your great arts; To govern the peoples with authority, To establish peace under the rule of law, To conquer the mighty, and show them mercy once they are conquered." -Virgil, Aeneid VI, 847-853

She’d never kissed a man. She’d wanted to a few times before, but she’d never allowed herself to do so. Now, the instant his mouth touched hers, she knew she’d never want to kiss any man but him for the rest of her life. He was her one and only. He was everything she would ever want, everything she could ever need.

Splendor was the decree of the day.

Surely, by all convention, the Iliad will end here, with the triumphant return of its vindicated hero. But the Iliad is not a conventional epic, and at the very moment of its hero's greatest military triumph, Homer diverts his focus from Achilles to the epic's two most important casualties, Patroklos and Hektor: it is to the consequences of their deaths, especially to the victor, that all action of the Iliad has been inexorably leading.

Taming a city is a thorny problem, so different from conquering it.

Tek kişi yok ki ölümü görsün. İşitsin sesini ölümün. Ama gerçektir ölüm ve seslidir. Kaç defa elden geçirilmeli bir ev; ya da onaylanmalı bir sözleşme? Hangi malların hangisine ait olduğunu tartışmamayı kaç kez kararlaştırsın iki kardeş? Kaç savaş olmalı, kaç tufan, salgın hastalıklar ve sürgün?

The door handle turned. Someone knocked, and a man's voice called, "Uh, hello?" Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery, looked back at the others, looked at Skulduggery again. "Hello," Skulduggery said, speaking loudly to be heard over the alarm. "Hi," said the man. "The door's locked." "Is it?" "Yes." "That's funny" said Skulduggery. "Hold on a moment." He reached out, jiggled the handle a few times, then stepped back. "Yes, it's locked. You wouldn't happen to have the key, would you?" There was a delay in response from the other side. "I'm sorry," the man called, "Who am I speaking with?" Skulduggery tilted his head. "Who am I speaking with?" "This is Oscar Nightfall." "Are you sure?" "What?" "Are you sure you are who you say you are? This is the Great Chamber, after all. It's a very important place for very important people. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that someone, and I'm not saying that this applies to you in particular, but someone could conceivably lie about who they are in order to gain access to this room. I have to be vigilant, especially now. There's a war on, you know." Oscar Nightfall sounded puzzled. Who are you?" "Me? I'm nobody. I'm a cleaner. I'm one of the cleaners. I was cleaning the thrones and the door shut behind me. Now I can't get out. Could you try and find a key?" "What's your name? Give me you name." "No. It's mine." "Tell me your name!" "My name is Oscar Nightfall." "What? No it isn't. That's my name." "Is it? Since when?" "Since I took it!" "You didn't ask me if you could take it. I was using it first." "Open this door immediately." "I don't have the key." "I'll fetch the Cleavers." "I found the key. It was in the keyhole. It's always the last place you look isn't it? I'm unlocking the door now. Here we go." Skulduggery relaxed the air pressure, opened the door, and pulled Oscar Nightfall inside. Valkyrie stuck out her foot, and Oscar stumbled over it and Vex shoved him to Ghastly and Ghastly punched him. Oscar fell down and didn't get up again. Skulduggery closed the door once more.

The gods grant a strange power to those who are overlooked, the power to do the unexpected.

The greatest war story ever told commemorates a war that established no boundaries, won no territory, and furthered no cause.

There are twin Gates of Sleep. One, they say, is called the Gate of Horn and it offers easy passage to all true shades. The other glistens with ivory, radiant, flawless, but through it the dead send false dreams up toward the sky. And here Anchises, his vision told in full, escorts his son and Sibyl both and shows them out now through the Ivory Gate.