Best 1688 quotes in «battle quotes» category

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.

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

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

The battle is won on the strategy table.

The biggest battle is the war against ignorance.

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

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

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

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.

The noble heart will find no shortage of places to offer itself in martyrdom, but you cannot die on every battlefield.” ~ Duncan Sinclair, from The Outcast Highlander

Then spoke Gangleri: 'There is a very large number of people in Val-hall. I declare by my salvation that Odin is a very great lord when he commands such a great troop. But what entertainment do the Einheriar have when they are not drinking?' High said: 'Each day after they have got dressed they put on war-gear and go out into the courtyard and fight each other and they fall each upon the other. This is their sport. And when dinner-time approaches they ride back to Val-hall and sit down to drink, as it says here: All Einheriar in Odin's courts fight one another each day. They select their victims and from battle ride, sit the more at peace together.

The only way to efficiently battle evil is to copy enough to know how to counter each argument, yet not enough to believe all the bullshit.

The outcome of battle is never in a warrior’s control. What is in his control is how he chooses to fight and what he chooses to fight for. Today, I choose to fight to keep the Anartas and Sindhuvarta free of the invaders – and I choose to fight such that the enemy will speak of me in their legends for generations to come.

The rain still drummed on the roof, like fine needles striking the shingles. The family sat silently around the table, each one wrapped in their own thoughts. It was Matthew’s voice that broke the silence, asking, “And what happened after that?” “After that,” said Paul, “came Gettysburg.

There are no good tights, Rare they are, a rare sight. You roll and roll Inside a new hole, They´re only good for a fight.

There are no short cuts to victory, battles must be fought for victories to be won.

There are people who are always insecure, dissatisfied and looking for a conflict. Unfortunately, the only way to deal with them is to walk away cuz the battle they are fighting, is not with you or everyone else around them, it is within themselves. Choose peace over being right.

There are times in life when you must seclude yourself and battle your thoughts. There are also times when you must call in the troops. The key is knowing when to make the call.

There is always a battle within you; a battle between your demons and your angels. You are always at war with yourself, to find the light while darkness encroaches on you. Unfortunately, this is a battle we all must face, to choose whether we will be good or bad. The most important step is choosing a side. You must choose to live in the light if you wish to remain there. You must tell yourself, every day that your life, your self will be good. You must tell yourself that you will find the light, the love, the beauty, and the joy. Believe you will find the light and so you will.

There is magic in this sad, hard world. A magic stronger than fate, stronger than chance. And it is seen in the unlikeliest of places. By a hearth at night, as girl leaves a bit of cheese for a hungry mouse. In a slaughter yard, as the old and infirm, the weak and discarded, are made to matter more than money. In a poor carpenter's small attic room, where three sisters learned that the price of forgiveness is forgiving. And now, on a battlefield, as a mere girl tries to turn the red tide of war. It is the magic of a frail and fallible creature, one capable of both unspeakable cruelty and immense kindness. It lives inside every human being ready to redeem us. To transform us. To save us. If we can only find the courage to listen to it. It is the magic of the human heart.

There is more for us to gain through love than hate.

There is never a guarantee of survival, no matter your strength or skill or wit. There is only the day you are conceived and the day you die, and all else is a series of moments you either embrace or endure.

There is no love in war but there is a lot of war in love.

There is no Situation in which Arms can get an Answer. Arms only ensure, that there would Never be an Answer.

There is something alluring about dying in a battle. I don't yearn for death. Suicide is the ultimate disgrace. Yet the image of going out in a blaze of glory, fighting for something truly good, truly worthwhile, something you truly believe in... The idea's splendor overwhelms me.

There’s the feisty bitch I know and love. Now come on, it’s time to show Jai and his prick of a dad who the head poncho is around here.” She said giggling, as I slowly let her go and took a step back. “Head poncho, don’t you mean…?” I started before she cut me off. “Shh, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that. Now shift it missy, it’s arse whooping time. Yeehaaa.” She said, making me burst out into laughter. She was right, it was time I showed them who I am.

There was a loud shuffling above. A line of redcoats took their position at the edge of the ravine and aimed down at the rebels. "Present!" the British officer screamed to his men. "Present!" yelled the American officer. His men brought the butts of their muskets up to their shoulders and sighted down the long barrels, ready to shoot and kill. I pressed my face into the earth, unable to plan a course of escape. My mind would not be mastered and thought only of the wretched, lying, foul, silly girl who was the cause of everything. I thought of Isabel and I missed her. "FIRE!

There was nothing to see in the room, but his brain pulled multiple vivid memories to the forefront of his mind. Entering the house as husband and wife, with Angela holding onto his arm. The night his father died in the downstairs bedroom while he was helpless to do anything but watch from the window; an outsider. Long years of being Angela’s Peter Pan before that boy had ever existed, flitting in and out of her window, and her life. Watching the woman he loved grow old and live a life without him by night, then babysitting her killer by day. It was impossible for him to see Amelia as anything else in those early days. The days before he loved her.

There was no right or wrong during war. The setting sun made me realize that the ones who would live to see a new day would be the ones who are victorious. As with all the history of this world, the ones who won were always right.

The roar of the crowd began to grow. He heard them harmoniously stomping their feet in a rhythm that cried out for battle. Gabe glanced across the arena to several cages that were shielded by large cloaks. Whatever was inside was clearly becoming agitated by the noise of the crowd. The captive creatures began beating against the bars. Random secret shrieks and growls came from their general area.

The shield wall reeks of shit, and all a man wants is to be home, to be anywhere but on this field that prepares for battle, but none of us will turn and run or else we will be despised for ever. We pretend we want to be there, and when the wall at last advances, step by step, and the heart is thumping fast as a bird’s wing beating, the world seems unreal.

The smoke stung at the corners of Uri’s eyes as he struggled to open them. He could hear the battle sounds all around him and smell the iron from the blood drenched warfare in the air. Much to his surprise, death had not yet claimed him. He could feel Raimie’s body under his own, no warmth came from him, however, and Uri feared the worse. Over his shoulder, he heard a large blast and the earth shook under him. The trackers had obviously followed someone through. There were hundreds of designated transportation locations as part of the evacuation drill. Absolutely nobody was allowed to transport directly to a primary facility for this exact reason. If a tracker were to follow your transportation signature to the next facility, the Guardians could be nearly wiped out in one night. The secrecy of the facilities and cloaking spells were key in their safety. Uri knew if he or Raimie had any chance of surviving, he needed to get clear of the fighting and find a healer. Attempting to sit up, he braced his weight on the earth just beside Raimie’s head. He quickly reconsidered as the unbearable pain shot through his side. Running his hand down to the source, he could feel the shaft of an arrow jutting out from his side; a warm wetness covered his fingertips. In the distance, Uri could hear someone crying out in agony, not a voice he recognized, yet the pain in it seemed all too familiar. Another blast rang out from behind him as Uri slumped to the ground, groaning in pain.

. . . the sole aim of Okinawa Karate is to teach A person to handle violence and violent individuals; whether it is tactile, mental or spiritual

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 thing about being everyone's source of strenght: sometimes you forget that you need to draw strenght from others.

The thought of abandoning his friend to save himself was never an option. He collapsed, pushing even closer to Raimie. Pressing his lips against his friend’s ear, he whispered, “As good a day to die as any.” He would defend them until his end.

The two sat quiet for a moment; Gabe unsure what to say to comfort his friend and Uri stewing in his own frustration. “Damn it! It was a stupid plan!” Uri swung an arm around behind himself and his bag being the nearest object in reach, swung it across the room with as much force as he could muster.

The war dragged on, as wars tend to do.

The war had been a daily thought, a continual consciousness in her life for two years, but never a real presence. Battles were things that were fought somewhere else, won somehow, by someone, and lost by someone else. Now as she stood by her own door and listened to the cannons, it was with a chilling, dreadfully full and clear realization that men were out on the field beneath that gray cloud taking each other’s lives.

The warrior who goes off to battle should not boast as the one who returns from it.

The Warrior knows that no man is an island. He cannot fight alone; whatever his plan, he depends on other people. He needs to discuss his strategy, to ask for help, and, in moments of relaxation, to have someone with whom he can sit by the fire, someone he can regale with tales of battle.

The word "Wisdom" was for the people who have high level of inferiority complex and who are battling with some hard times.

The worst thing was that even if you did your own job, if your teammate failed to do theirs, you could be blown away along with them. And yet, if you focused only on strengthening your own defenses, someone else could get killed. All we could do was trust our teammates, and those who failed were mercilessly culled. We'd been thrown into an extreme situation that was just like the front lines. In the end, we barely slept at all.

Thirty paces, twenty, and you can see the eyes of the men who will try to kill you, and see the spear-blades, and the instinct is to stop, to straighten the shields. We cringe from battle, fear claws at us, time seems to stop, there is silence though a thousand men shout, and at that moment, when terror savages the heart like a trapped beast, you must hurl yourself into the horror. Because the enemy feels the same. And you have come to kill him. You are the beast from his nightmares.