Best 1688 quotes in «battle quotes» category

Raise your vibration, Not your tone of voice.. You gain inspiration, For Peace is a choice.

Rebecca, we live in a world where darkness seems, in the minds of many, something banished to the world of fairy tales and superhero movies. How surprising it then becomes—even for those of us who believe otherwise—that it may appear in our own lives, in our own battles. To face an opponent that is more than the average ‘jerk,’ who has made a deadly choice, is, let us admit it, nothing that we expect to experience.

Revenge is weak when provocation is the reason to prepare us strong for any battle.

Roman soldiers were known to have carried amulets of tigereye into battle, for physical protection and to promote the courage necessary to rise up to the challenge of their rivals. Now that I think of it, I can't imagine a better incantation for a charging ritual for a tigereye than getting pumped listening to Survivor's 'Eye of the Tiger' with the stone in your hand.

Screams and laughter simultaneously rent the air. Women were being physically harassed by the soldiers who had just killed their husbands, fathers and brothers. After the battle, men would win but the women always lost.

Self-control is a divided battle in one body. The "self" produces desires that "you" must battle with and kick off. Two wrestlers in one body. Just imagine. It's difficult, though rewarding!

Sensual living is a tool of happiness in the battle of life.

Serpent-Breath was famous...Wasp-Sting, short and lethal.

She accepts the world as it is and the world accepts her thus. She is not mastered. What is done to her cannot confine what she will do.

She wanted to tell him of the years she had spent looking for men such as he to work with; she wanted to tell him that his enemies were hers, that she was fighting the same battle...

Shiloh had become far too used to it; for all that she paid him no mind, the moment his sharp fangs pierced the skin on the inside of her thigh, her head lolled back against the seat and she closed her eyes. The feeling was still delectable even now.

Shumë thonë se vetë jeta është luftë. Hëh, jo, ore jo; luftë e njëmend është ajo e panjohur që gjendet brenda njeriut (...)

Sir Arthur grimaced. He hated violence - perhaps his father ingrained that into him. But he still fought, for principle and for father's legacy. Now that legacy meant the protection of defenseless women. There were a few Persians in the way to execute that duty. He stabbed his blade into a Tatar's chest. Another one.

Since they were made by hand, no two long rifles were exactly alike. Granted, the majority might appear very similar to anyone except their rightful owner. But look closer, and each weapon's uniqueness became obvious. Small variations in the wood furniture or the fittings were of course to be expected. Much larger innovations were also common—Sergeant Murphy, for instance, was believed to have had a double-barreled rifle. It was an over-under design, with one barrel above the other. The arrangement would have made it quicker for him to get off a second shot, a key asset in battle as well as hunting.

Slant narrowed his eyes. “Do the Clans walk alone into the final battle?” Half Moon flattened her ears. “Never alone!” She lifted her chin. “I will fight alongside Jayfeather.” Broken Shadow unsheathed her claws. “And I will fight alongside my son.” “I will fight beside Jagged Lightning and my kits to defeat this darkness.” Owl Feather’s eyes sparked. Bluestar thrashed her tail. “And I will die a tenth time to defend ThunderClan!” “These cats will never stand alone,” Half Moon declared. “We are with them just as we have always been.

Solemn three-day fasts, which were instituted by Adhemar of Le Puy, were decreed after an earthquake which took place on 30 December 1097, before the battle of Antioch on 28 June 1098, before an ordeal undergone by Peter Bartholomew on 8 April 1099 and before the procession round Jerusalem on 8 July 1099. These fasts certainly made an impression on the crusaders; they could hardly have failed to have done so, since they can only have made their hunger worse. It was reported that during their fast at Antioch Turks came up to walls with loaves of white bread, with which they tempted and mocked the starving men within. The achievement of the crusaders becomes even more remarkable — in fact it is quite incredible - when one considers that soldiers already weakened by starvation, who certainly appreciated die importance of taking food before battle since they took care to give their horses extra rations, deliberately fasted before their more important engagements. One wonders how they managed to fight at all.

Something in me died at Peleliu. Perhaps it was the childish innocence that accepted as faith the claim that Man is basically good. Possibly I lost faith that politicians in high places, who do not have to endure war's savagery, will ever stop blundering and sending others to endure it.

Sometimes, if your opponent is determined to win the battle, let him win the wrong battle.

Sometimes the only option is to raise the stakes, to throw yourself the other way, to force your opponent further down the path they've chosen, further than they might want to go.

SOMETIMES WE MAY NEED TO LOSE A BATTLE, TO LEARN THE BEST WAYS TO WIN THE WAR.

So we turn to the history of that chapter in the chronicles of war that was quintessentially the age of battles: romantic, even glorious in their spectacles of brightly colored uniforms, glittering sabers and bayonets, blaring musical battle-calls, charging men and horses; inspiring in their instances of courage and devotion to duty; horrible beyond imagination in the wreckage of crushed and mutilated bodies they left behind; futile in their habitual failure to achieve that complete destruction of the enemy army through which they might have justified themselves by bringing quick decisiveness to war. The swift decisions almost never came. if war's one virtue was its capacity to produce decisions at a tolerable cost, it had lost its virtue before the age of battles commenced.

Soldiers falling fast Battle of white and scarlet Blossoms on the ground

Stop giving yourself permission to fail; start giving yourself permission to succeed. You cannot win battles you have already lost in your mind. You cannot lose battles you have already won in your heart.

That's what lay behind the feud under way in the Republic: a battle between different noble family factions in a fight for power. Serving this side or the other was of no interest to Mathias. But the consequences of a Venice under the Pope's direct control weren't at all to his liking. His beloved books would be burned by ignorant, avid priests. Men like Malachia would win. It was the same old struggle. The same fight Gheorg had chosen, the same fight that might take him to Wittenberg. But he wouldn't clear the way for Alexander VI. With what little strength he possessed, even though he was nothing more than a pawn of a chessboard, that extended farther then he could see, Mathias would help those in power smash what had all the makings of a major plot, one designed to overturn the government in power in La Serenissima. And these thoughts allowed the monk to find the first answer to the many question with which he still felt burdened. He and the Borgias did NOT share the same Church.

Sam, no!” Edilio snapped. Sam missed a step, then stopped. He looked at Edilio, puzzled. “We’re scattered. And we can’t risk you. You die and the light dies with you.” “Are you out of your mind? You think I’m going to let Drake come in here and take Diana?” “Not you, Sam. Dekka, yes. Orc, yes. He’s out there, too. And send Jack as well. Anyone but you.” Sam looked like he’d been punched. Like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He blinked and started to say something and stopped. “You aren’t replaceable, Sam. Figure it out, okay? It’s going dark and you make light. So this isn’t going to be your battle. Not now. It’s on the rest of us to step up.

Still, for what Androma did to him, he should hate her, should want her dead. But seeing her before him, melting into rage and riot, her glowing grey eyes reflecting the electricity that swam around her swords... Godstars, she was magnificent, a creature that deserved to release her wrath on the world. It would be worth every drop of blood about to be shed to bring her to Cyprian's feet.

Success is often followed by failure. Yesterday's victory doesn't win today's battle.

Tain Shir walks the deck of RNS Sulane between the bombs and incendiaries and steel-tipped barbs. A weapon among weapons but she alone is free. The tragedy of the knife is the hilt. The tragedy of the crossbow is the trigger. Shir has neither. She cannot be gripped nor fired. She is unmastered. The sailors are rude with her. So be it. Etiquitte is the domain of those whose power is conditional upon the respect of others, and Shir is unconditional. If she drifted alone in the void beyond the moon or if she walked among the monarchs of the ancient Cheetah Palaces she would not be altered in her capabilities or her intentions, for not one truth of her resides within a relationship to any other thing.

That fighting of a battle without belief is, I think, the sorriest task which ever falls to the lot of any man.

That joy. That madness. The gods must feel this way every moment of every day. It is as if the world slows. You see the attacker, you see him shouting, though you hear nothing, and you know what he will do, and all his movements are so slow and yours are so quick, and in that moment you can do no wrong and you will live forever and your name will be blazoned across the heavens in a glory of white fire because you are the god of battle.

The battle belongs to the Lord, and we already know that He wins the war.

The armored infantry was Santa Claus, the battle was out Christmas. What else for the elves to do on Christmas Eve but to let their hair down and drink a a little eggnog.

The battle of the sexes and you're winning hands down.

The battle is won on the strategy table.

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 battle of good versus evil is the oldest and most re-occurring story tale in the book of life. It never ends because no matter how you cut off the tail of evil, it will always grow back again and again. This old story will always continue into infinity until we closely examine our past errors to prevent giving the snake a new head in the future. You can destroy a demon, but a new one will always come back later in time. You can bring down a corrupt leader, but another one will rise up again with time. As long as the ego overcomes the heart of a man, evil will always exist, and the enemies of God will continue to multiply and thrive. If a tree is bearing bad fruit, you do not destroy the tree by cutting off its branches or eliminating its fruit, but by destroying its roots. I want you to look at the world as this poisoned tree. Even if we eliminate our enemies today, we will create new ones tomorrow. The forumla to cut off the head of the snake once and fall is very simple, and this basic solution is written in all your holy books — 'LOVE IS THE ANSWER'. The strongest counterspell to destroy all forces of black magic is love. Pure unconditional love. However, to be able to emit the right frequency of love, one must first succeed in their own personal battle of good versus evil: heart (conscience) vs. mind (ego). Once you learn how to use your heart to embrace all living things as you do your own reflection, and use your heart to detect truths and dictate your actions, your heart will not be fully activated to love all of mankind the right way. Where there is love, there will be truth and light. Take away the love or truth, and we will forever remain in the dark. Truth, light and love must all co-exist in perfect harmony to overcome evil on earth. And they cannot just be secluded to one part of the world, but reign as divine royalty across the entire globe.

The biggest battle is the war against ignorance.

...the experience of battle forever divides those who talk of nothing else but its prospect from those who talk of everything else but its memory.

The colours of the world had faded; not even the sun could make it past the death cloud surrounding the two armies.

The gods demand entertainment. They demand trial and contest. We could not be allowed to defeat our own daemons, for that would be boring, and boredom is the only thing the eternals fear. We are being lined up, one by one, to tear at each other's throats. I do not think they wish to see a victor. I think they wish us to fight forever, locked in madness until the universe's end

The grand-scale battle, with tens of thousands of soldiers fighting, cursing, trembling, falling, screaming in agony, dying, all in a spectacle covering an amphitheater-like field -- this dramatic epitome of war is the chief source of the enduring fascination of military history. The thirst to experience vicariously the intense emotions of battle goes far to explain why books of military history are written and read, however much their authors and readers may profess higher concerns about removing or at least palliating the scourge of war.

The greatest war every fought, and are still fighting, where more people have been defeated and died, is the war within.

The greatest battles go to the strongest warriors.

The hardest battle you will fight is this one between your heart that feels the truth and your mind that refuses to accept.

The ground had opened up and spit out hell, Nell thought, and the detritus was Shiloh.

THE LINCOLN HAS ITS SCARS ALSO. MY FINGERPRINTS ACROSS ITS THROAT.

The mind is a battlefield on which positive and negative thoughts compete for territory.

The moment you believe you will fail, you have already lost the battle.

The more we prepare for war, the more we make it a reality. Yet, it would seem, to prepare for war may also be the best and possibly the only way to avoid it.’ – Govinda Shauri, The Aryavarta Chronicles - Kurukshetra

The most glorious battles in history are those with the biggest number of dead. As if we pay tribute to death and not to life.