Quotes from Bernard Cornwell

Mehrasa, a dark-skinned girl who came from the lands beyond the Mediterranean. She had married Father Cuthbert and now lived in Bebbanburg

What binds a man to his land? What power within allows him to give his life to preserve his land and the lives of the families who work it? It can only be love.

Bravery is overcoming fear," I said, "and I don't know how you do that. Duty helps a little, experience, of course, and not letting down your comrades helps a lot, but really bravery is a kind of madness.

ground, then drank some and fancied it

I was arrogant that day, arrogant and confident, because there are times when men need to see arrogance

They're praying to ham bones, ham bones! The blessed pig!

If God is within us then we need no Church and no Holy Father to lead us to His mercy, and that notion is the most pernicious of heresies

Pride makes a man, it drives him, it is the shield wall around his reputation and the Danes understood that. Men die, they said, but reputation does not die.

Don't give me your Christian shit about forgiveness.

the land Ida's warriors had conquered was now our land. Ida the Flamebearer's enemies had been driven from their pastures and valleys, hunted to Wales, to Scotland, or to Cornwalum, and the land they left behind was now ours, the land we wanted one day to be called Englaland.

Wyrd bið ful ?ræd. The

St George!' the English shouted, but the saint must have been sleeping for he gave the attackers no help.

It was, predictably, a morning ceremony, for nothing good comes of endeavours undertaken when the sun is in decline

It seemed an unassailable logic to me. What was the point of worshipping a god if he did not help you?

Children born to unwed mothers,' he said after a long silence, 'have parts of their souls missing.

An English man-at-arms had his helmet split open and his skull with it, so that he rode wavering from the fight, blood pouring down his mail coat. His horse stopped a few paces from the turmoil and the man-at-arms slowly, so slowly, bent forward and then slumped down from his saddle. One foot was trapped in a stirrup as he died but his horse did not seem to notice. It just went on cropping the grass.

If you're powerless, lord, then why be ashamed of what the strong inflict on you? It's for them to be ashamed.

You cannot command love, Lady, only beauty or lust does that. Do you want the world to be fair? Then just imagine a world with no kings, no queens, no lords, no passion and no magic. You would want to live in such a dull world?

We pulled slow and steady through the darkness and we hammered the ears of the gods with prayers.

Dealing with the Scots, my father had always said, was like trying to geld wildcats with your teeth, but luckily the wildcats spent much of their time fighting each other. Once

Father Hobbe, his cassock skirts hitched up to his waist, was fighting with a quarterstaff, ramming the pole into French faces. 'In the name of the Father,' he shouted, and a Frenchman reeled back with a pulped eye, 'and of the Son,' Father Hobbe snarled as he broke a man's nose, 'and of the Holy Ghost!

Ferocity gave her a beauty that nature had denied her.

To gain everything, a man must risk everything.

He believed that virtues are handed down through a man's loins! What nonsense! A