Quotes About Witcher

is not only the execution and the excellence of the craft that determine the quality of a witcher's sword. As with mysterious elven or gnomish blades, whose secret has been lost, the mysterious power of a witcher's sword is bound to the hand and skill of the witcher wielding it. And, forsooth, owing to that magic's mysteries it is greatly potent against the Dark Powers.

Nonsense," said the witcher. "And what's more, it doesn't rhyme. All decent predictions rhyme.

Incredible, Geralt. After so many years? How's it possible?' 'There's a grain of truth in every fairy tale,' said the Witcher quietly. 'Love and blood. They both possess a mighty power. Wizards and learned men have been racking their brains over this for years, but they haven't arrived at anything except that—' 'That what, Geralt?' 'It has to be true love.

In order to become a witcher, you have to be born in the shadow of destiny, and very few are born like that. That's why there are so few of us.

In the bathhouse, he was annoyed by the expression of the attendant, looking at his witcher medallion and his sword lying on the edge of the tub. He was annoyed by the fact that the attendant did not offer him a whore. He had no intention of availing himself of one, but in bathhouses everybody was offered them, so he was annoyed by the exception being made for him.

Shut up, Dandelion,' the Witcher said. 'I have no intention of so doing. In fact I plan to compose the Ballad of the Two Tits. Please don't interfere.' 'Dandelion,' Dorregaray sniffed through his bloody nose. 'Be serious.' 'I am being bloody serious.

In order to become a witcher, you have to be born in the shadow of destiny, and very few are born like that. That's why there are so few of us. We're growing old, dying, without anyone to pass our knowledge, our gifts, on to. We lack successors. And this world is full of Evil which waits for the day none of us are left.

Then pay greater attention. The difference, my dear witcher, is that one who is bought is paid according to the buyer's whim, whereas one who renders a service sets his own price. Is that clear?

He, Poppet, has no voice or ear, and can only rhyme "rear" with "beer". This is Geralt of Rivia, a member of the guild of witchers.

The doppler pursed its glutinous lips and glowered at the Witcher with an evil expression in its dull eyes

There's a grain of truth in every fairy tale," said the witcher quietly. "Love and blood. They both possess a mighty power. Wizards and learned men have been racking their brains over this for years, but they haven't arrived at anything except that—" "That what, Geralt?" "It has to be true love.

There's a grain of truth in every fairy tale," said the witcher quietly. "Love and blood. They both posses a mighty power.

There are those,' Geralt said slowly, 'who prefer the company of lepers to that of a witcher.' 'There are also those,' Three Jackdaws laughed, 'who prefer sheep to girls. Ah, well, one can only sympathise with the former and the latter. I repeat my proposal.' Geralt took off his glove and shook the hand being proffered. 'I accept, glad to have made your acquaintance.' 'Then let us go, for I hunger.

The mixture which helped the witcher gain full control of his body was chiefly made up of veratrum, stramonium, hawthorn and spurge.

The witcher solemnly promised himself that nothing would surprise him anymore. "At last. Greetings, witcher." "Stregobor!" Geralt was surprised.

The Witcher nodded to indicate he had heard of him. He also knew the price that had been offered for Cicada's head in Vizima, Caelf and Vattweir. Had he been asked his opinion he would have said it was a low price. But he had not been asked.

Some of the flames were tall and strong, burning brightly and vividly, while others were tiny, flickering and quavering, and their light diminished and died. At the very end was but one tiny flame, so weak it barely flickered and glimmered, now struggling to flare up, now almost going out entirely. "Whose is the dying flame?" asked the Witcher. "Yours." Death replied.

Whosoever sheds man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. Genesis, 9:6 Verily, great self-righteousness and great blindness are needed to call the gore pouring from the scaffold justice. Vysogota of Corvo CHAPTER FIVE 'What seeks the Witcher on my territory?

So the officer gets pissed off and says tough luck, it's a witcher's fate to risk his neck, and that a witcher is perfectly suited to it, like an arse is perfectly suited to shitting.

Your songs mention no names, but we know the witcher you sing of is no other than the famous Geralt of Rivia

Evil has stopped being chaotic. It has stopped being a blind and impetuous force, against which a witcher, a mutant as murderous and chaotic as Evil itself, had to act. Today Evil acts according to rights – because it is entitled to. It acts according to peace treaties, because it was taken into consideration when the treaties were being written…

A story is a largely false account, of largely trivial events, fed to us by historians who are largely idiots,'" smiled the Witcher.

One thing is certain," muttered the witcher, sweeping his eyes over the tangled jungle of hemp spreading before them. "This devil is not stupid.

To nie ba??, to ?ycie, Parszywe, zÅ'e, ci??kie, nie szczÄ™dzÄ…ce pomyÅ'ek, krzywd, ?alu, rozczarowaÅ" i nieszcz???, nie szczÄ™dzÄ…ce ich nikomu, ani wied?minowi, ani królowym. (...) to nie ba??, ale ?ycie, które sami musimy zapeÅ'nia? sobie momentami szcz??cia, bo na los i jego uÅ›miechy liczy?, jak wiesz, nie mo?na.