Quotes About Path

Evil is at its boldest when it walks an unerring path.

Just so. And wonder, my friend, is the intellect's most feared foe. Its path is love, and love is the language of humility. The rational mind would stand over it with a bloodstained sword, and in the empty bleakness of its eyes you will see its triumph.

We faced a choice then,' Haut went on. 'To resume our onward journey, or to turn round, to discover the blessing that is walking back the way we came. In our standing in one place, we argued for centuries, until finally, in our mutual and well-deserved disgust, we each chose our own paths.' 'And so ended your civilization.' 'It was never much of one to begin with. But then, few are.

The Warrens of Magic dwelt in the beyond. Find the gate and nudge it open a crack. What leaks out is yours to shape. With these words a young woman set out on the path to sorcery. Open yourself to the Warren that comes to you — that finds you. Draw forth its power – as much as your body and soul are capable of containing — but remember, when the body fails, the gate closes.

Fallen. Who tracks our footsteps, I wonder? We who are the forgotten, the discounted and the ignored. When the path is failure, it is never willingly taken. The fallen. Why does my heart weep for them? Not them but us, for most assuredly I am counted among them. Slaves, serfs, nameless peasants and labourers, the blurred faces in the crowd—just a smear on memory, a scuffing of feet down the side passages of history

This path`s a dire thing, the gate it leads to is like a corpse over which ten thousand nightmares bicker their fruitless claims.

Walk with me on Thieves' Road hear its song underfoot how clear its tone in misstep as it sings you in two

No life's path is bloodless. Spill that of those blocking your path. Spill your own. Struggle on, wade the growing torrent with all the frenzy that is the brutal unveiling of self-preservation. The macabre dance in the tugging currents held no artistry, and to pretend otherwise was to sink into delusion.

I saw the sun's bolt arc an unerring path to the man's forehead. As it struck, the crows converged like night drawing breath. Dog

Mistress to these footprints Lover to the wake of where He has just passed, for the path he wanders is between us all. The sweet taste of loss feeds every mountain stream, Failing ice down to seas warm as blood threading thin our dreams. For where he leads her has lost its bones, And the trail he walks is flesh without life and the sea remembers nothing.

Now, after all this time, he was able to realize that every path eventually, inevitably dwindled into a single line of footsteps. There, leading to the very edge. Then…gone. And so, he faced only what every mortal faced. The solitude of death, and oblivion's final gift that was indifference.

The conquerors always assumed that what they conquered was identity. But the truth was, identity could only be killed from within, and even that gesture was but a chimera. Isolation had many children, and dissolution was but one of them – yet its path was unique, for that path began when identity was left behind.

Steering is for people who know where they're going.

Back in the Aerie she popped her lips percussively as she examined her booty. 'P-ilfering P-adgett's P-ockets Pr-oduces P-ossible P-ath to... to—' Well, clues and shit.

The dead have the easy road: they know the way, because that decision has already been made for them. Only the living are lost.

Indians in Kentucky used a 225-mile path between Big Bone Lick and Maysville that they called, simply, "the Buffalo Path.

But in Rome one's path is never entirely clear of enemies. When even a perfect stranger could prove to be Nemesis, no man can protect himself completely. What point is there in cowering away in another man's house, behind the spear of another man's guard? Fortune is the only true protection against death;

Todo es impredecible y no obedece a ningún plan, pero conduce a un conocimiento fiable, y disfrutamos al andar el camino.

There's a long, long trail a-winding into the land of my dreams.

I believed that you were shutting me out of your life, but perhaps I am as guilty as you of preferring isolation. Our path is hard, Daniel. We should not choose to walk it alone. You are my light.

All those who would understand the ways of wyrd must tread this path. You must strengthen the light within you, for once it burns brightly, it will illumine your way forever. There is already a tiny flame within your heart. The same flame burns within every human breast. Can you feel it? Can you see it with your inner eye?

Our final destiny has been revealed to us. We have only to follow it.

Many dark rituals have been conducted to drive you along your path.

You chose the wrong path, Wilfish. You could have been with me, which we both know is what you truly desired.