Best 152 quotes in «warriors quotes» category

It was while he was on the tower that Robbie came to the rampart beneath. 'I want you to look at this,' Robbie called up to him, and flourished a newly painted shield. 'You like it?' Thomas peered down and, in the moonlight, saw something red. 'What is it?' he asked. 'A blood smear?' 'You blind English bastard,' Robbie said, 'it's the red heart of Douglas!' 'Ah. From up here it looks like something died on the shield.

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

Loyalty is proved by what we do, not where we come from!

Loyalty is what matters, and that exists now, not in the past. Loyalty must be prove every day, in each piece of fresh-kill brought back to the Clan, every claw mark on our enemies, every patrol, every training session.

Make your enemies bleed.

I want to hear you cry out in pleasure again." "All you have to do is touch me.

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.

Men who have been in war have a different attitude about being wronged.

Medicine cat' means nothing on its own, without an understanding of what should be done--which isn't always what you first think.

More water will flow before we join StarClan. This is not an end. This is a beginning. You will need the courage of a lion to face this journey.

Most of them [the soldiers—Warriors in New Pentagon Speak—of the all-volunteer military] come from small towns in the South or the rustbelt of the Midwest or the big city ghettoes. Many are following a family heritage of military service that has made veterans of past wars a relatively privileged class, enjoying special access to higher education, jobs, and a nationwide system of socialized medicine. But so many of them are so very young, enticed or strong-armed by smartly uniformed recruiters who work the corridors and classrooms of America's most impoverished and thoroughly militarized high schools. So many are badly educated, knowing nothing of the world and how it operates. So many are immigrants, risking their lives for a fast track to citizenship. So many are poor and short on promise. So many have such a slim chance of another job, another line of work [like the one who tells the author "where else can I get a job doing the stuff I love? . . . Shootin' people. Blowin' shit up. It's fuckin' fun. I fuckin' love it."], let alone a decent wage or a promotion. And because the Pentagon lowered standards to fill the ranks of the volunteer army, so many are high school dropouts, or gangbangers, or neo-Nazi white supremacists, or drug addicts, or convicted felons with violent crimes on their record. In just three years following the invasion of Iraq, the military issued free passes—so called "moral waivers"—to one of every five recruits, including more than 58,000 convicted drug users and 1,605 with "serious" felony convictions for offenses including rape, kidnapping, and murder. When the number of free passes rose in the fourth year, the Pentagon changed the label to "conduct waiver.

Next to the strappy Wielders, I felt me and my class were devastatingly scrawny or chubby.

No one will bother us now." She touched his lips with her finger. "I think I'll scream if they do." "Oh, you'll be screaming. That I promise you.

No. That would not be him. He would not die on a battlefield, choking on blood and honor without making any difference at all.

I will give you a few guarantees of my own, Mukthar. I guarantee that before the sun sets, even if you win, even if my cold, dead body is lying on the field, you will rue the day you ever set foot in the Plains. For every inch you advance I'll exact gallons of Mukthar blood. I guarantee that there will be not one family of the Bear Mukthars or they will mourn at least one of theirs. I guarantee that even if you are triumphant the fruits of victory will taste like dust in your mouth. I guarantee that if you fail to kill me today, you will meet me again. You will meet me at the Ximerionian border. You will meet me at every city, town, village, and hamlet. You will meet me on every Amirathan crossroad, on every hill. I will fight you with every sword at my command, with every arrow, with every dagger. I will fight you with pitchforks. I will fight you with the very rocks of the land you try to conquer. I will never, never, never give up. ~Anaxantis, before the Battle of the Zinchara (May 29th, 1453 aed)

Mouse brain!!

Never trust a fox. Looks like a dog, behaves like a cat.

Only a fool goes to war in winter.

Only through the group, I realised — through sharing the suffering of the group — could the body reach that height of existence that the individual alone could never attain. And for the body to reach that level at which the divine might be glimpsed, a dissolution of individuality was necessary. The tragic quality of the group was also necessary, the quality that constantly raised the group out of the abandon and torpor into which it was prone to lapse, leading it to an ever-mounting shared suffering and so to death, which was the ultimate suffering. The group must be open to death — which meant, of course, that it must be a community of warriors.

Only when life is quiet, Empress," Oli said. "When the battle comes our way or we see a need, we will pick up our swords and fight beside the bravest of men, even knowing we may fall. But once all is well again... that's when the darkness comes. Then we sit in silence and struggle to grasp our peace the best we can.

Our ancestors did great work for humanity. What will we do for the next generations?

Of course. I have made good friends in all the Clans. I've seen kits born and watched elders leave on their final journey to Silverpelt. I've made the long journey to the Clans' new home. Believe me, I wouldn't change a single day. I know it is not in your power to give me longer with my Clan. But I can't help wanting more.

Ours is a world controlled by the warrior and the sword.

Pain makes people warriors, you just have to hurt enough!

People think I am strong. I am not strong. There is a difference between a strong person and a stubborn person who just won't put her sword down. I am the latter. Again and again and again... pick the sword up, pick the sword up, pick the sword up...

People who are unable to stand within the dark places of life, those who are always running towards their happy places, are the same things as candles without flames. There is no worth in a candle without a flame, and we only add the flame when there is darkness. Without darkness, there would be no need for warriors and angels. Warriors are not made because the whole world is happy and angels were not formed because there are no demons. Be of worth, have a flame.

Protecting yourself is self-defense. Protecting others is warriorship.

She had a reputation throughout the Clans for a sharp tongue and a short temper, as well as fearlessness in battle and deep pride in ShadowClan. She played a vital role in helping establish the new territory beside the lake when she took on the troublesome kittypets who lived in a Twoleg den amid the pine trees. Even as she got older and more frail, Russetfur remained the ShadowClan deputy, keeping younger warriors in line with her brisk words and high expectations. She was killed by Lionblaze in a battle over the clearing between ShadowClan and ThunderClan; her death was a shock to everyone, and there were suggestions that such an old cat should not have been allowed to fight. But it was the death Russetfur would have chosen for herself, bravely and in the midst of battle on behalf of her beloved ShadowClan.

Sandgorse chose his own destiny. Why should he get to choose yours, too?

She kissed him like he was a warrior; she kissed him like she was a warrior.

Soldiers manage by dividing themselves. They're one man in the killing, another at home, and the man that dandles his bairn on his knee has nothing to do wi' the man who crushed his enemy's throat with his boot, so he tells himself, sometimes successfully.

Something is happening inside StarClan. All the Clans will be affected. This time will cannot rely on other Clans.

Somos guerreros. Mi padre, en todo el tiempo que recuerdo, llevó ropa militar, aunque no lo era. Pensar en el dinero era de burgueses; preocuparte por tu propia vida, no patriótico. El estado normal era el hambre. Ellos, nuestros padres, sobrevivieron al desastre, por tanto también nosotros debíamos superarlo. No había otra manera de convertirse en un hombre de verdad. Nos han enseñado a luchar y a sobrevivir bajo cualquier circunstancia. A mí mismo, después del servicio militar, la vida civil me resultaba insulsa. Salíamos en grupo por la noche a la ciudad en busca de emociones fuertes.

She's a skilled and swift fight, and I know she'll pass on her training on to you.

So, Orion Dude, you’re an alien?” Stu said, finding it all very funny now. “Hmm. If you’re coming to my planet, Stu, actually you’re the alien! As for Titan... we’re all aliens,” Orion replied.

She will not die today. I won't let her.

The battle a warrior fight with himself is equally fierce to the battle fought with the enemy, the winning of the first battle decides the fate of the second; winners are not the ones pushed in the battlefield but the ones who enter it willingly.

The failure of the citizens to pray for the nation will lead to its collapse.

The first act in the training of a warrior should be how to string his rifle and turn it into a guitar

The coffin was handmade from the wood of a single Eucalyptus tree. There were no handles, it rested on the shoulders of six elegant tribesmen. These were Maasai from Kenya, the warrior tribe, known for their courage and endurance. The walkers followed at a respectful distance, the pace was grueling.

So that's a fox?' Firepaw whispered. 'What an ugly muzzle!' 'You can say that again!' agreed Graypaw. 'I was following one of those when we first . . . met,' whispered Firepaw. 'More likely it was following you, you idiot!' hissed Graypaw.

The past is the past. The future is fresh. You must forget all you have known, no matter how much you loved it, and choose paths that will carry you to a new dawn." -Bright Stream

There are hundreds of political prisoners right now in America’s jails who were so taken by Malcolm [X’s} spirit that they became warriors and the powers that be understood them as warriors. They knew that a lot of these other middle-class [black] leaders were not warriors; they were professionals; they were careerists. But these warriors had callings, and they have paid an incalculable and immeasurable price in those cells.

The male sphere of Norse shamanism consisted of the elite warrior groups known as the berserkir ("bear-shirts") and the úlfheðnar ("wolf-skins"). The berserkers (as we'll refer to the members of both of those groups for the sake of convenience), were shamans of a very different sort. After undergoing a period of rigorous training and initiation, they developed the ability to fight in an ecstatic trance that rendered them fearless - and, according to some sources, impervious to danger - while nevertheless inspiring a tremendous amount of fear in their opponents by their behavior, which was at once animalistic and otherworldly. Perhaps needless to say, there was no ergi associated with being a berserker. Quite the opposite, in fact - the berserker was seen as something of a model of manliness.

There’s more.” “Of course there is,” Brishen said flatly. It had started badly; it turned worse and hinted at becoming ruinous.

The strongest yet the biggest battle is to fight from yourself, for yourself. No one can even imagine the battle one goes through every day. So be strong, be courageous as You are Amazing! And the greatest warrior

The only sound was the crackle of the fire as they looked at each other. Then his mouth was on hers, moving seductively. She returned his kiss, opening for him when his tongue swept against her lips. He enticed, he tempted. He tantalized, he seduced. And it was glorious.

This will not be the end of the Clans. As long as I have breath in body, the Clans will be safe.

They couldn’t turn back time. What was done, was done. He dropped his arms and lowered his head. Despondency filled him to the very brim. He was a dragon. A creature of magic and fire. A being that was lethal and dangerous. The Kings had forgotten that. All but one.

Three out of five. Those were the odds. Three out of five new recruits would die within their first cycle as a Hunter.