Quotes About Heir

Descended of royal lines older than Dascen Elur's archives, Arithon was the last living heir to the High Kingship of Rathain, a land divided in strife since the Mistwraith had drowned the sky.

King Zello and his daughter

Battlewinner spat out a shard of ice that sizzled into steam when it hit the lava. "You never wanted to be queen," she rasped. "You're a pathetic heir." "I know I am," Greatness said. "Being queen is awful.

Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new-create another heir As great in admiration as herself.

Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death's.

Our perhaps understandable modern need to full the sawtooth edges of so many of the afflictions we are heir to has led us to banish the harsh old-fashioned words: madhouse, asylum, insanity, melancholia, lunatic, madness. But never let it be doubted that depression, it its extreme form, is madness.

El nuevo amanecer encontró a la princesa heredera; al despertar, estaba agotada, y completamente vacía de sueños.

Although this is the capital of the future, its inhabitants are nostalgic by nature. Every generation has its own notion of "old New York" and claims to be its rightful heir. The result is, of course, a perpetual reinvention of the past. And this, in consequence, means there are always new old New Yorkers.

No son wishes to see his son less powerful than himself.

If a king cannot have a son, if he cannot do that, it matters not what else he can do. The victories, the spoils of victory, the just laws he makes, the famous courts he holds, these are as nothing.' It is true. To maintain the stability of the realm: this is the compact a king makes with his people. If he cannot have a son of his own, he must find an heir, name him before his country falls into doubt and confusion, faction and conspiracy. And who can Henry name, that will not be laughed

The living result of the queen's labors is the diminutive Mary—not really a whole princess, perhaps two-thirds of one.

Prince Oak, heir to Elfhame. Son of the traitorous Grand General and brother to the mortal High Queen. Oak, to whom I was once promised in marriage. Who had once been my friend, although he doesn't seem to remember it.

Do you think he will protect you now? You're useless. The heir to Elfhame has no reason to spend any further time with an untutored savage of a girl. But think, you wouldn't even have to remember him. You wouldn't even have to remember yourself." "I'm not half as practical as you suppose," Oak says. "I like many useless things. I've been called useless myself from time to time.

Only to see Oak, the heir to Elfhame, standing in a clearing. All my memories of him were of a merry young boy. But he'd become tall and rawboned, in the manner of children who have grown suddenly and too fast. When he moved, it was with coltish uncertainty, as though not used to his body. He would be thirteen. And he had no reason to be in my woods.

I do see myself as the heir to a vast, great, rich culture of painting - of art in general - which we have lost, but which places obligations on us.

Prince Philippe is well prepared to succeed me.

The best thing about being a dad? Well, I think it's just the thing that every man wants - to have a son and heir.

When He comes back, He will be revealed as the heir of all things. Once He was rejected by tiny Israel; When He returns, He will be accepted by every single nation. Once He was a lowly Savior, acquainted with grief; Then He will be the mighty God, anointed with the oil of gladness.

Michel Cukiermann, my son-in-law: heir of suffering, pillar of the community, contemporary stand-in for the sons of Abraham, disciple of Moses.

Yes, I think it's helping. Ugh. You had better pray for a boy, Westcliff, because this is your only chance at an heir. I'm never going through this again—" "Open your mouth," he said, and fed her more flavored ice.

THE Right Honorable Edward Junius Carsington, Earl of Hargate, had five sons, which was three more than he needed.

Meanwhile the whole of the Realm worries that I may already have seen my last winter, yet have appointed no heir to succeed me—while High Lords like Aquitaine seem ready to swim to the throne through a river of blood, if necessary." Miles considered the enormity of it for a moment in silence. "Balls.

Cineama, heir of alchemy, The last erotic science

The name of a successor is like the tolling of my own death-bell!