Quotes About Unity

You can be the dead fish. I'll be the old stick

We were one thing. A whole thing. You and I and Nighteyes. I felt a strange sort of peace. As if all the parts of me were finally in one place. All the missing bits that would make me a complete... thing.' I shook my head. 'Words don't read that far.

I think that old magic draws much of its strength from that acknowledgment: that we are a part of that world.

The separate parts of my life became like beads and I the string that ran through them all. I believe if I had ever paused to consider the intricacy of all I did to keep those parts separate, I would have found it impossible. But I was young then, much younger than I suspected, and somehow I found the energy and time to do and be it all.

To be part of a family, or any community, is to have duties and responsibility, to be bound by the rules of that group.

We are whole

He spoke solemnly. "This is our last hunt, old wolf. And as we always have, we go to it together.

We didn't have to share a mind to share a heart.

Is it the nature of the world that all things seek a rhythm, and in that rhythm a sort o peace?

you cannot fend off the enemy if you do not have confidence in those who stand behind you.

Come, join your kin and lend strength to the weaker ones. Together, together, we journey, back to our beginnings and our endings. Gather, shore-born creatures of the sea, to return to the shores yet again. Bring your dreams of sky and wings; come to share the memories of our lives. Our time is come, our time is come. - She Who Remembers

We were one thing. Whole.

No. I wanted nothing of that. I sank myself deeper into the stronger current where all such outreaching mingled into a vast joining. Sometimes I thought it the birthplace of dreams and intuitions. At other times I thought of it as a repository of all the folk who had gone before us, and perhaps even those to come after. It was a place where sorrows and joys were equal, where life and death were just the stitches on each side of a quilt. It was nepenthe." p. 465

Change often measures our tolerance for folk different from ourselves. Can we accept their languages, their customs, their garments, and their foods into our own lives? If we can, then we form bonds, bonds that make wars less likely. If we cannot, if we believe that we must do things as we have always done them, then we must either fight to remain as we are, or die.

I had learned, yet again, that I could not serve the Farseers and still claim a life for myself. Not this again, Changer. How could the moments of your life belong to anyone but you? You are the Farseers, blood and pack. See the whole of it. It is neither a binding nor a separation. The pack is the whole of you. The wolf's life is in the pack.

When you save any part of the world, you've saved the whole world. In fact, that's the only way it can be done.

It's all connected. When you save any part of the world, you've saved the whole world. In fact, that's the only way it can be done.

Jsme tady, Fitzi, ty a já, abychom zmÄ›nili budoucnost svÄ›ta. Abychom hmátli a podrželi na místÄ› ten malinký oblázek, který by mohl uvolnit padající balvany.

He would protect your cub as his own, he pointed out quietly. That is pack. He meant the words for comfort. I did not need them. Instead I reached to rest a hand on his ruff. Did you see how she stood and faced them down? I demanded with pride. A most excellent bitch, Nighteyes agreed.

The pack does not die if the cub survives. Be a wolf, my brother. Things are clearer so.

It is hard to express the completeness of two beings moving as one, for a single purpose.

Awe flowed through him with his blood. Tree. Bark and sap, the scent of the wood and the leaves fluttering overhead. Tree. But also the soil and the water, the air and the light, all was coming and going through the being known as tree. He moved with them, sliding in and out of an existence of bark and leaf and root, air and water.

When I had encountered the Skill joy, I had not found it the tawdry pleasure Galen had implied. Rather, it had been the same rush of blood and thunder of earth that sometimes music brought to me, or a sudden flight of bright pheasant in an autumn wood, or even the pleasure of taking a horse perfectly over a difficult jump. That instant when all things come into balance, and for a moment turn together as perfectly as birds wheeling in flight.

How many doesn't matter after one," Chade had said. "We know what we are. Quantity makes you neither better nor worse.