Quotes About Victory

Point! -Alicia

At the end of their grim race, death might be the only prize.

I'm going to win the girls' race this week.

I wanted to give you a victory. But by their essential nature triumphs can't be given.

If there's no game, isn't winning a pretty meaningless concept?

God save me from another such victory.

There is this, about being the sparring partner of the best swordsman in Caribastos. I always lost. But if ever I meet the third best swordsman in Caribastos, he's going to be in very deep trouble.

At a growl from Kety, the procession paused in front of the entering Barrayarans. Miles heard Kety's voice, icy-cold: "Congratulations, Lord Vorpatril. I hope you may be fortunate enough to survive your victory." "Huh?" said Ivan. Oh

Barrayar is bred in my bones. I cannot shake it, no matter how far I travel. This struggle, God knows, has no honor in it. But exile, for no other motive than ease—that would be to give up all hope of honor. The last defeat, with no seed of future victory in it.

Exile, for no other reason than ease, would be the last defeat, with no seed of future victory in it.

Ivan didn't want to know. "You play games like that with the big boys, you'd better make damn sure you win, Miles says. Rule One. And there is no Rule Two.

Sorry things got so messy," Miles apologized. "I realize how it must burn you to have your opponent blunder to victory. I'd have preferred something neater and more tactical myself, like Komarr, but I had to take the situation as I found it." Tung snorted. "Who wouldn't? Who do you think you are? Lord Vorkosigan?" Miles

Lois Walfrid Johnson

Mikkel grinned. Bree made a mistake. I'll find her yet!

Never dare a Coyote. Ever. It was a law, even the council knew to never dare them. They always accepted a dare. They always triumphed.

Nothing is unobtainable to the sword.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And the better the world liked seeing them fall.

I tell them dance begins when a moment of hurt combines with a moment of boredom. I tell them it's the body's reaching, bringing air to itself. I tell them that it's the heart's triumph, the victory speech of the feet, the refinement of animal lunge and flight, the purest metaphor of tribe and self. It's life flipping death the bird. I make this stuff up.

He was like one of those saprophytic orchids that can create harmony and wonder even as it grows and blossoms on a pile of shit, in a place of skulls and bones. He let his rifle rust, and even los it once or twice, but he won battles armes with nothing but a mandolin. (195-196)

He never knew when he was whipped ... So he never was.......

Victory is not won in miles but in inches.

Well, I've often been wrong, but this time I was right and they had to pay mind to me or bury me, and mine is a breed that dies hard.

gun blasted, but the shot was high and Jeb seized the arm in his huge jaws and then man and dog went rolling over and over on the floor. Vetter threw Morgan off and came to his feet, but Morgan lashed out with a left that knocked him back through the door. Dorfman managed to get

rip our bottom out.