Best 111 quotes in «sword quotes» category

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

Imagine a perfect world

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 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.

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.

In tyranny, my sword belongs not in a scabbard.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

I will not crumble without a sword in hand.

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

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.

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.

—¡¿Me buscabais?! —Así es, Gryal Ibori. —¡Pues aquí me tenéis! —gritó furioso, con el alma ardiente y la voz quebrada. Estaba cansado de todo y de todos. Sólo quería ver a Lorette, reunirse con ella y estar a su lado. Y corrió hacia sus enemigos, como un león herido y rodeado, como un hombre que sólo tiembla por frío y sólo llora por amor. Su capa negra se deslizó en el viento, cual triste bandera, y Gryal cortó el aire con su espada ensangrentada.

Mightier than the sword, the pen may be; but the tongue is mightiest of all.

My name is Arianna Morganna Brittany DuLac--you can imagine why I went by the name Ryan.

Nobody is masterless, even ronin enslaved by his sword.