Best 111 quotes in «sword quotes» category

A good swordsman is more important than a good sword.

A man’s perspective is limited by the brevity of his existence. Even living deliberately, how far up can we reach? Standing on our miniscule patch of time, how far into the future can we see? How much of the past can one truly understand? Yet, only a recreant spends their precious drops of sand before dropping back into the abyss lounging in indulgence, not striving for understanding, knowledge, answers that those of us scourged/consecrated with consciousness should seek with unconquerable passion.

A man’s perspective is limited by the brevity of his existence. Even living deliberately, how far up can we reach? Standing on our miniscule patch of time, how far into the future can we see? How much of the past can one truly understand? Yet, only a recreant spends their precious drops of sand before dropping back into the abyss lounging in indulgence, not striving for understanding, knowledge, answers that those of us scourged/consecrated with consciousness should seek with unconquerable passion. - Far Forest Scrolls Na Cearcaill

And they are ignorant that the purpose of the sword is to save every man from slavery.

Anger is a shield for the power of the sword's magic, so that helped.

Any officer who goes into action without his sword is improperly armed.

A smile and a sword— the way to conquer kingdoms.

A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage

A sword can only pierce the body, but love can pierce the soul.

A sword in one's hand can be used as a link to one's heart - you hurt only if you are hurt yourself and want others to share your pain, and you protect if you have strong bonds with others you want to maintain...

Avventurose età e benedette quelle che non seppero la spaventevole furia di queste indemoniate macchine dell'artiglieria, l'inventore delle quali io ritengo che sia nell'inferno a ricevere il guiderdone del suo diabolico ritrovato, per mezzo del quale fece sì che un ignobile e codardo braccio possa toglier la vita a un prode cavaliere.

- because just by hating it’s possible to be purified from love, just with the sword, with the fire..

Beware of smile, for it is a double edged sword; it cuts the helmet of tension from others head and backfires the peace to yours.

Complacency is a sword of two edges. One edge kills hard earned successes while the other end stops future glories. Complacency is a murderer and a barrier!

Do I look like I want to be involved in your teen love saga? Ask someone who cares.

Do you think we can be friends?” I asked. He stared up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but we can pretend.

Every sword that was dripping the blood became a pen. Every word that was written in it became a poetry.

For whatever reason, a man who can not draw his sword and slit the throat of his tormentor is twice cruel to himself.

Hail Hyperborean!- sired by Mars, mothered by frigid strife, suckled on the teats of war and sustained by the golden mead of conquest. Harken!- the thunder and clanging steel as he come from atop his glacial fastness. Woe!- red runs his marauding, rapine path; ever southward the unstoppable scourge, and onto gleaming cities- trampling underfoot the flower of their soldiery. Behold!- his heal on the throats of their champion elite. Hence he stands astride the vanquished and wailing land to be crowned the supreme fighting-man of the earth" -Boudewyn de Carlamagna Excerpt from VARANGIAN- Book One of Byzantum Saga

Hand holding sword is always an ugly hand!

He attacks again, his sword a silvery fish darting through the sea of the night.

He’d used the amulet to read my thoughts again. I pictured smacking him in the face.

He’s so powerful. Who knows maybe he’s advanced past eating

Hot, bright heat filled him like some ecstatic poison, and Hartan's pony shied in terror as a wordless howl burst from his throat. His dripping ears were flat to his skull, fire crackled in his brown eyes, his huge sword blurred in a whirring figure eight before him, and the brigand running at him gawked in sudden panic. The raider's feet skidded in mud as he tried to brake, but it was far too late. He was face-to-face with the worst nightmare of any Norfressan, a Horse Stealer hradani in the grip of the Rage, and a thunderbolt of steel split him from crown to navel.

However, what he wanted was impossible: the serenity of the Gods cannot be achieved by the sword.

I am afraid of waking up to emptiness, to a place where my friends and family are gone and I am nothing but a single bolt of lightning in the blackness of a lonely storm. If I am a sword, I am a sword made of glass, and I feel myself beginning to shatter.

Iapetus shall crush you!” one shouted. “Who?” I asked. Then I ran her through with my sword. Note to self: If you vaporize monsters, they can’t answer your questions.

I caught his hand. “What do you want me to do?” Leaning down, he kissed the pulse beating on my neck just above the damaged skin. “Tomorrow, I need you to die.

I cling to Cal, Kilorn, Shade, to saving all the newbloods I can, because I am afraid of waking up to emptiness, to a place where my friends and family are gone and I am nothing but a single bolt of lightning in the blackness of a lonely storm. If I am a sword, I am a sword made of glass, and I feel myself begin to shatter.

I did not ask for consciousness, yet it came to me. And I had to know. Once again, I crawled away from my bed and pushed the computer cord back into the socket. It took three minutes. I quickly identified myself and put in my password. Then it thought. I wanted to bounce impatiently, but I couldn’t make myself move. At last, I found the internet, and I typed in a name, on the company page, under my account. I searched ‘images’. And there, on the screen in front of me, was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up and spilling over as I stared back at the smiling face. It couldn’t be him. It was. Derek Erickson. And I was going to kill him.

If you can cut the head off of this broom-goober with that sword, then I'll believe you can gank zombies with it.

I had a dream about you last night. Our vices had wings and our fears could breathe fire. There was nowhere to hide and we were trapped alive. So you reached for your sword and slashed my arm, waking me and saving my life.

Imagine a perfect world

I noticed him right away. No, it wasn’t his lean, rugged face. Or the dark waves of shiny hair that hung just a little too long on his forehead. It wasn’t the slim, collarless biker jacket he wore, hugging his lean shoulders. It was the way he stood. The confident way he waited in the cafeteria line to get a slice of pizza. He didn’t saunter. He didn’t amble. He stood at the center, and let the other people buzz around him. His stance was straight and sure.

Inscribed on it was a verse from the Quatrains of Omar Khayyam, the eleventh-century Persian mystic. Reading the words aloud I prepared for a most amazing journey: The sages who have compassed sea and land, Their secret to search out and understand, My mind misgives me if they ever solve The scheme on which the universe is planned.

In tyranny, my sword belongs not in a scabbard.

I stood behind the man’s chair, my blade at his throat. “Why do you do it?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t answer. “Kill people, and blow up buildings, and sell drugs?” It was what they all did. Committed crimes. That was why I killed them. “You’re a criminal, a terrorist, a danger. And I have been asked to take you out.” I told him. I was legend now, yet he asked the same question all the others did. “What is your name?” My sensitive ears tuned out the slit as my sword cut his neck. I walked around the chair to see his face. I watched as his eyes–slowly at first–changed from blue to milky white. His skin went pale. And as I heard him take his last breath, I ducked in so my lips hovered at his ear, and whispered, “My name, is Sharden.

It has the elegance of a sword The might of a shield, How you chose to fight or yield Its your to wield. Identify your mind. Poem: The Beautiful Mind in ‘Chameleon Lights

I told you, I’m awesome at everything,” he teased, putting the PS3 controller on the floor between us. “That includes video games.” I watched as the character Wesley had been operating moved across the screen, doing some sort of odd victory dance. “Not fair,” I muttered. “Your sword was bigger than mine.” “My sword is bigger than everyone’s.

Its powers?' Dallben answered with a sad smile. 'My dear boy, this is a bit of metal hammered into a rather unattractive shape; it could better have been a pruning hook or a plow iron. Its powers? Like all weapons, only those held by him who wields it. What yours may be, I can in no wise say.

It was pretty late and the streets were quiet so she was almost sure no one had seen her drag the soul eater into the alley... where she cut his head off with a samurai sword. God, she loved her life.

I've climbed up here holding the hilt of time's sword by driving it into my tender heart.

I was not weak; I did not cry. But it hurt me, more in a kind of refreshing, thrilling way, than a kind of pain that would cripple me and send me away crying. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, and my teeth bit into my lips, my knees were locked, but I could not faint.

I will not crumble without a sword in hand.

Love is the only thing in this whole universe, that can make the roses grow out of the swords.

Man looks very coward and extremely primitive with an ostentatious big sword and he looks very brave and tremendously sophisticated with a humble olive branch!

Man without a sword is still a warrior, but one with no shield is just a target.

Marilynn...passed out black cases to everyone. I opened mine to find an iPad inside. Several candidates whistled. Despite my agitated state, it impressed me too. Maybe wizard school wasn’t going to be as lame as I had thought. “All of your schedules and assignments will be done on these,” Marilynn explained. “The whole school is on these. We’ve had them for awhile now.

Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.

May I help you?” Keegan asked, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You may or you may not, as it is your decision. However, I would like some information, unless you should not give it to me,” the elder stated quickly and in a kind voice.