Quotes About Warrior

It was chintz but not the cat-lady chintz I was used to. Perhaps it was Mrs. Bellrush's manner or steely blue eyes but I got the distinct impression that this was aggressive chintz, warrior chintz, the kind of chintz that had gone out to conquer an Empire and still had the good taste to dress for dinner. Any IKEA flat-pack that showed its face around here was going to be kindling.

One account exists of how a French soldier disarmed one of the warriors only to have her take him down with a judo shoulder throw and tear out his jugular with her teeth.

Ferrus opened his eyes, and the fire of the sword was alive in the silver coins of his eyes.

In the world of the superheroes, everything had value, potential, mystery. Any person, thing, or object could be drafted into service in the struggle against darkness and evil - remade as a weapon or a warrior or a superhero. Even a little bee named Michael - after God's own avenging angel - could pitch in to win the battle against wickedness.

It is no crime. I once felt affection for a Warrior-Servant as I hunted his ships and destroyed his fighters. No lover ever felt my attentions so fiercely.

In any battle, out of every hundred men, ten shouldn't be there. Eighty are just targets. Nine are good soldiers, and we're lucky to have them. But one, that one is a warrior, and will bring the others home.

Think about a guy like Bob Mitchum, with his kind of chest gut not defining itself one way or the other. Was there anybody tougher? Lee Marvin was a marine sniper during the Second World War. They had this sense of themselves, and they had this product of being a man in a masculine way.

I just want to fight and not talk too much.

better illustrate this better than the life of one of the most extraordinary warriors the world has even known; a man of legendary ambition, will, and grit: Alexander the Great. In this book, you'll be taken on a whirlwind journey through Alexander's life and conquests, and not only learn about the successes and mistakes of one of history's greatest conquerors, but also how to awaken a fire in your own life and adventures.

Greatness does not come lightly. It requires that you make sacrifices of time, interests, and--sometimes--possessions. The further you move toward greatness, the more greatness demands from you. But all barriers yield to one mythical quality: drive. The will to persist and overcome. To never give up. To never accept defeat. Few stories better illustrate this better than the life of one of the most extraordinary warriors the world has even known; a man of legendary ambition,

Each time he returned from battle he was a little less himself—and a little bit more at the same time. The experience seemed to both harrow his soul and enrich his understanding of the evils the world held.

As Mr. Darcy walked off, Elizabeth felt her blood turn cold. She had never in her life been so insulted. The warrior code demanded she avenge her honour. Elizabeth reached down to her ankle, taking care not to draw attention. There, her hand met the dagger concealed beneath her dress. She meant to follow this proud Mr. Darcy outside and open his throat. But

Cuchullain died as a hero should — on a battlefield, with his back to a rock and his face to the foe, buckler on arm, and spear in hand. He died standing, and in that defiant attitude (supported by the rock) was many days dead ere the enemy dared venture near enough to reassure themselves of his exit — which they only did when they saw the vultures alight upon him, and, undisturbed, peck at his flesh.

Men's strengths go hand in hand with their weaknesses. That is why there is no such thing as an invincible warrior, and why heroes die.

Yes, we'll yell, 'Help, help us, goose girl, and bring the terrifying legion of warrior geese'.

All I know is, she is the wild warrior goddess with the flaming sword of righteousness. Do not mess with her, man, or she will fuck you up.

You're a warrior, Nate," Dub said softly. "You always will be. But now the battle is for peace of mind.

Silain sat up straighter. She had heard tales of the headwoman of the People of the Tree. She was a warrior so ferocious the Yxtrang revered her as a hero; a lover so skilled that she had captured the heart and hoard of a Dragon; a woman who gave her word but rarely, and always kept her promises. It was that last which concerned Silain; after all, there were irresistible lovers and fiery warriors in plenty among the Bedel. But promise-keeping, that was dangerous.

Even if some women were physically and mentally capable of participating in a warrior's group, this very rarely happened.

Within the U.S. military, members of Special Ops were considered a breed apart, an elite warrior class that carried out the most difficult missions under the most dangerous circumstances—the guys in the movies rappelling from helicopters into enemy territory or making amphibious landings under cover of darkness.

He told me that I needed to smile more, to remember that this was a great adventure and that voters loved a happy warrior.

Scholarship, religion, philosophy—they were killing matters in those days, and at that time I was still close enough to my human habits of thought to be concerned about the outcome of the invasion. And too, it was still respectable among scholars to be a warrior, and among warriors to be a scholar, which it is no longer, as I'm sure you know.

Some vicious thing inside me stirred. I felt it in my gut, the back of my neck, my hands. I thought of Musashi, the master swordsman, who wrote, You must think of neither victory nor of defeat, but only of cutting and killing your enemy.

When your sword meets that of your enemy, you can never waver, but must instead attack with the complete resolution of your whole body… —Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings