Quotes About Power

Sve dok nisam došao do ?arobne rije?i. Amber. (...) Rije? bijaše nabijena strahovitom ?ežnjom i golemom nostalgijom. Imala je, zamotan u sebi, osje?aj zaboravljene ljepote, grandioznih dostignu?a i mo?i užasne i gotovo kona?ne. Nekako, ta je rije? pripadala mom rje?niku. I nekako, ja bijah dio nje, a ona dio mene. Bijaše to ime mjesta, znao sam, mjesta koje sam neko? poznavao. Ali nije izazivala nikakve slike, samo osje?aje.

child of Amber may walk among them, and such was my heritage. You may call them parallel worlds if you wish, alternate universes if you would, the products of a deranged mind if you care to. I call them shadows, as do all who possess the power to walk among them. We select a possibility and we walk until we reach it. So, in a sense, we create it.

I am Dara. Dara of Amber. Queen Dara. I hold this throne by right of blood and conquest.

Now you know what an absolute monarchy is she explained to Bill. You can see how power corrupts. I was corrupt before I had power, Random said, and rich is better.

This is because one can never be sure whether wisdom produces or merely locates, and the Prince is wise.

My father, and most of the others in Amber and the Courts, swear by the heavy, awkward things, but they are probably made of sterner stuff than myself.

I would have taken genuine delight in looking helpless while actually pulling the strings that made all the others dance. Any of us would, though. We all have our motives, our ambitions.

Above me, my mother, Dara, stood upon a low balcony in her natural form, looking down at me in her awful power and beauty.

And the Scythe of Time has no power in this corner of the heart.

Kroon ei muuda selle kandjat automaatselt pistodakindlaks. [Merlin] Aga pärija tuleb võimule suure hulga paha pagasiga. [Suhuy]

Unlike the other darkside Lords, whose places of power were fixed geographical localities where they reigned supreme, Jack's was more a tenuous one, and liable to speedy cancellation, but it existed wherever light and objects met to make a lesser darkness. With

A prisoner of he who has already slain you once, he thought. No doubt near to his place of power, in a cage built just for me. Bad. Bad. There

All scheming princes must keep a few secrets.

Black money is so much a part of our white economy, a tumour in the centre of the brain - try to remove it and you kill the patient.

Who would want to enter the soiled Temple of Justice, wherein lies the corpse of justice, slain by her very guardians? And now her killers make mock of the sacred process, selling replicas of her blind virtue to the highest bidder.

Time, the ultimate grandmaster that could never be checkmated. There was no way out of its distended belly.

I almost forgot to tell you - you have the right to remain silent, but if you do, my boys at the station will process your bones to help you confess.

People forget how vulnerable they are despite their shirts and shoes and briefcases, how this hungry and cruel world could strip them, put them in the same position as my beggars.

To make someone wait: the constant prerogative of all power, age-old pastime of humanity.

The Photograph is violent: not because it shows violent tings, but because on each occasion (i)it fills the sight by force(i), and because in it nothing can be refused or transformed (that we can sometimes call it mild does not contradict its violence: many say that sugar is mild, but to me sugar is violent, and I call it so).

I feel that the Photograph creates my body or mortifies it, according to its caprice (apology of this mortiferous power: certain Communards paid with their lives for their willingness or even their eagerness to pose on the barricades: defeated, they were recognized by Thiers's police and shot, almost every one).

that ambiguous area of culture where something unfailingly political, though separate from the political choices of the day, infiltrates judgment and language.

To instil into the Established Order the complacent portrayal of its drawbacks has nowadays become a paradoxical but incontrovertible means of exalting it.

We are all potential Dominicis, not as murderers but as accused, deprived of language, or worse, rigged out in that of our accusers, humiliated and condemned by it. To rob a man of his language in the very name of language: this is the first step in all legal murder.