Best 152 quotes in «warriors quotes» category

I have yet to face Writer's Block and I don't believe I ever will. It is much more difficult for me to shut my imagination down to get a good nights sleep than it is to prod it to life.

I have traveled so far and loved so much, and yet I am still following the Sun Trail, heading for my new hunting grounds. -Gray Wing

I know what it's like to have a power no other cat understands. It's the loneliest feeling in the world.

I'm calling the police," she said, showing him the phone in her hand. He smiled, and for a moment she forgot about the phone. "You don't need the police." No, of course she didn't How silly.

I’m in awe of the people who manage their difficult lives with little complaint, those who have suffered more than their fair share of pain, and understand things could have been much worse, those who take the time to be grateful for the important things, and who never give up on themselves or their lives. It's no easy feat to stay optimistic when life has shown you too much darkness, yet our world is filled with these steady, strong, resilient warriors of the light. From them, we have so much to learn.

In our time women can demonstrate prowess in a thousand ways. Long ago the great Princess Sun of Ping fought for her father, the August Sovereign. At her funeral, His Majesty called for the trumpets and drums to be sounded, an honor reserved for men. My dear, from this day you must dress her as a boy. Give her an education worthy of her own determination.

In battle, it is not the strongest or the bravest or those with the greater numbers who win. Victory belongs to the side that best understands the price of defeat.

In our modern world, we look unkindly on mistakes and imperfection. But this is far from the samurai ideal. Mistakes are part of the learning process and if you haven't made them then you are, indeed, dangerous because it means you have never learned anything. Mistakes, to a samurai, are the proof of your learning.

I think it's vital that we do not sleep together. You know, for the safety of the world." His eyes sparkled and there was just a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. "Okay," I said, and smiled back at him. "But kissing is allowed, right?" "Oh, definitely," he said, pulling me close. "After all, the warrior always wins the heart of the fair young...man.

In the year 970, the Greek historian Leo Diaconus witnessed a band of far-traveling beserkers as they fought against an army of the Byzantine emperor, his employer. He says that they fought in a burning frenzy beside which ordinary battle rage paled in comparison. They roared, growled, bayed, and shrieked like animals, and in an especially eerie and uncanny way. They seemed utterly indifferent to their own well-being, as if lost to themselves. Their leader, who embodied all of these traits to an extreme degree, was thought by Leo to have literally gone insane. Leo and Byzantine forces were veterans of countless battles, so the reactions elicited by the Scandinavian's behavior in Leo and his companions strongly suggests that what they witnessed in that battle was something unique to the Scandinavians, and something which chilled Leo and the Byzantines to their core.

It makes no difference what men think of war, said the judge. ... War endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner. That is the way it was and will be. That way and not some other way... War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god... Men of god and men of war have strange affinities.

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

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.

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

Make your enemies bleed.

It should surprise no one that modern soldiers return home just as conflicted and detached as previous generations. The difference is that in the age of vapid American decadence, their simpler fundamental values are largely irrelevant to we civilians.

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)

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 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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

Mouse brain!!

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

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.

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

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 a fool goes to war in winter.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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...

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.