Quotes About Armor

I think fashion is like putting on armor. I like that aspect of it, but it's not something I want to think about every day.

The reason we must put on the whole armor of God is to withstand evil. We don't war against people, but against a spiritual hierarchy of invisible power.

Although I voted against the initial resolution approving the war in Iraq, I have consistently voted to support our troops with much-needed armor and supplies.

I cannot tell whether diamonds appeared in his eyes or mine as the shine of adoration became the icon one sees in history, a Byzantine sparkle, Medieval armor against all odds.

player had put in her armor. Her well-crafted social veneer

American cops are so heavily militarized these days that the only way I can tell the difference between them and the army is the color of their body armor—that, and the army is less trigger-happy.

This lifestyle of putting on the armor implies consistent and multiple efforts. We live this way because of what can happen if we don't: relinquishing the benefit of our position in Christ as we are bombarded by schemes designed to destroy us and render us ineffective in kingdom pursuits.

He tried to live before her in armor. He showed off before her. Perhaps, he thought, if he were splendid enough, she would not see the ugly disorder and meanness of the world he dwelt in.

We were passing suits of armor at irregular intervals, and as usual, I had an uncomfortable feeling that I was under observation. "There's someone inside that armor, isn't there?" I whispered to Mr. George. "Some poor novice who can't go to the toilet all day, right? I can tell he's staring at us.

Suspicion is a heavy armor—'" "'And with its weight it impedes more than it protects.

Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.

You wear your honor like a suit of armor... You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move.

Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming.'' ''Lady Catelyn, you are wrong.'' Brienne regarded her with eyes as blue as her armor. ''Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining.

Nunca olvides qué eres, porque desde luego el mundo no lo va a olvidar. Conviértelo en tu mejor arma, así nunca será tu punto débil. Úsalo como armadura y nadie podrá utilizarlo para herirte.

Fighting is better than this waiting," Brienne said. "You don't feel so helpless when you fight. You have a sword and a horse, sometimes an axe. When you're armored it's hard for anyone to hurt you." "Knights die in battle," Catelyn reminded her. Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. "As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them.

Mai, mai dimenticare chi sei, perché di certo il mondo non lo dimenticherà. Trasforma chi sei nella tua forza così non potrà mai essere la tua debolezza. Fanne un'armatura e non potrà mai essere usata contro di te.

Look at these oafs, Ned. My wife insisted I take these two to squire for me, and they're worse than useless. Can't even put a man's armor on him properly. Squires, they say. I say they're swineherds dressed up in silk." Ned only needed a glance to understand the difficulty. "The boys are not at fault," he told the king. "You're too fat for your armor, Robert.

Then armor yourself in faith, by all means, but wear a suit of mail and plate as well.

Good armor and a good horse means a good ransom if I unseat him.

Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again.

If you want to dream, go back to sleep," he told her."When you wake up, we'll still be escaped slaves in the middle of a siege. Crunch is dead. The pig as well, most like. Now find some armor and put it on, and never mind where it pinches. The mummer show is over. Fight or hide or shit yourself, as you like, but whatever you decide to do, you'll do it clad in steel.

Underneath his steal and wool and boiled leather, Jaime Lannister was a tapestry of cuts and scabs and bruises.

Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took.

Well, the drums gave me headaches, the sunlight flashing on my armor cooked me up like harvest day, and those magnificent destriers shit everywhere.