Quotes About Fight

We must fight for what we want or it will be taken from us.

I stride to the ring where Cole and River are still hammering at each other. I remove my shirt and drop it to the floor. "Woo-hoo," Ali calls. "Take it all off.

The harder you fight, The more you bleed.

Seriously. She'd beaten that Unspoken One like morning wood with the same end result: an explosion.

Excuse me, Scopus," Beric said quietly, "I am perfectly ready to fight with this bragadocio, and challenge him to a contest; a few hard knocks will do neither of us any harm, therefore let us go into the school and have it out, It is much better so than to have perpetual quarrelling.

In a battle all you need to make you fight is a little hot blood and the knowledge that it's more dangerous to lose than to win.

It is not enough to fight. It is the spirit which we bring to the fight that decides the issue. It is morale that wins the victory.

I'd think 'In a relationship, we should never have his kind of fight.' Then, instead of figuring out how to make it work, I looked for a way to get out of it. The truth is, you shouldn't be married if your that kind of person.

First, we fight the battle, then we win the war.

Curran. You're taking a nap? Come on Kate, I need you for this fight, Stop lying around. You sonovabitch. I rolled to my feet and grabbed my sword. You must think you're funny.

No siempre existe un noble propósito. A menudo, hay una razón, la necesidad de salvar a alguien o algo: tu amigo, tu amante, un inocente que no merece resultar herido. A veces es una razón puramente egoísta. Uno puede luchar por fortalecer su cuerpo, por su buen nombre o por su cordura. A veces, es solo un trabajo, pero decidir luchar y hacerlo son dos cosas bien distintas.

A knockout, Curran said behind me. I jumped in the air about a foot and managed to land with some semblance of dignity. He had managed to sneak up on me again. Time to save face. Nah. That wasn't a knockout. I just staggered him a bit. I wasn't talking about the kick, baby.

We live in a dangerous world. If you see a chance to be happy, you have to fight for it, so later you have no regrets.

My wrists and ankles were bleeding. My knees too—I must've scraped myself trying to draw the circle. So far today I'd seen a woman almost die, I'd shot a person, I'd killed another person with my shockers, I'd been strung up on wires and almost crushed by a car, and now I was bleeding all over the place. If I could, I would punch today right in the face.

You will walk out of here when I'm finished and no doubt run straight into another foolish fight. That was a given.

The key to survival is to not give up. You have to fight for your life. You have to have hope. If you let go of hope, it's over. Giving up is dying quietly with your hands bound in a hut where the man who tied you up threw you. Hope is kicking your way out and running ten miles across snow and forest against all odds.

Nothing is free. If you want it, you have to fight for it.

Because I'm a woman? I asked quietly. Because you will be the only person in the fight who hasn't been trained as a killer. I have seen my mother and my grandmother on the battlefield. Any vampire with half a mind knows better than to stand between a woman and her chosen target. When a man takes up arms, he does so for many reasons. Sometimes to punish, sometimes to intimidate or frighten. But when a woman picks up a weapon, she means to kill. So please do not take this as an insult.

I gave him my hard stare. "You're a control freak and I fight all authority. And you want us to mate?" A wicked spark lit his eyes. "Many, many times.

Beneath the instinct to fight there lurks a diviner instinct to love.

He was lost in thought, vividly imagining scenes of battle and victory. He was a Boy Scout. He and his friends would form a group of volunteers, sharpshooters who would defend their country to the end. In a flash, his mind raced through time and space. He and his friends: a small group bound by honour and loyalty. They would fight, they would fight all night long; they would save their bombed-out, burning Paris.

True politics is simply the drying of tears and the endless fight for freedom. Without freedom there is no art and no truth. I revere great artists and the men who say no to tyrants.

Beveridgefn20 is a good thing though – that's all right, so long as people don't start relaxing with a sigh of relief. (I've just been reading Bev. – a fine piece of work – thorough and equitable – and it will be a good fight, trying to get it put into operation – doomed to failure I surmise, but instructive.)

Square go then smart cunt!