Quotes About Sacrifice

You are my king. You could command me to stop seeing her." Niall turned his gaze to Irial. "What would you do?" "Blind myself, if you were foolish enough to use those words.

The girl's kind, good. . . . Totally too good for you." "So were you." He kissed her cheek, singed it with his lips. "You still are." "Bastard." She shoved him, ignoring the burning in her palm from touching him. He put a hand on his shoulder, metling the ice that formed where she'd pushed too hard. It crackled under his touch. "Only because Beira murdered my father.

But I want to be near you always," he reminded her. "But you'll lose everyone else, and..." "I want forever with you." Seth lifted her chin so he was able to look directly into her eyes. "The rest will fall into place if I can be with you.

You are my queen. I've spent nine centuries seeking the mortal who would free this court, who would save my best friend's son, who would save the lives of the rest of the girls who were not you. I'd die before I'd allow harm to you." He bowed his head.

If he took her into his arms, he would keep her. He wouldn't let her suffer the way the other mortals had when he'd left them. He would keep her, with his court's permission or without it. Irial wouldn't take her, and Keenan wouldn't stand between them.

What can I give you, Aislinn? Shall I weave flowers into your hair?" He opened his hand, letting go of her hair. An iris blossom sat in the palm of his hand. "Shall I bring you necklaces of gold? Delicacies mortals can only dream of? I'll do all those things anyway. Don't waste your wish.

For this mortal I would disobey my queen, abandon my king, the court that has protected me all these years. All of it.

I love you," he said. Icicles formed on his skin as she stared at him for several heartbeats. "Do you suppose that changes anything?" "I want it to." He knelt at her feet, but didn't even dare touch her hand. "Don, I want it to meant everything. It should.

The devil didn't tempt with easy rewards; he tempted with the things one wanted the most.

WWII plaque that resides on an island in the pacific: "When you go home Tell them of us, and say For your tomorrow, We gave our today.

I don't know when the boys began to walk away with parts of myself in their sticky hands; when loving became a process of subtraction. Or why, having given up what seems so much, I'm willing to lose even more — erasing all this body's known, relearning it with you.

Goddammit. Can't I save you just once ?

You came." His gaze held hers. "And I knew that you are not useful to me, Ash. Not anymore. Except as a reason to get up in the morning --" "You don't sleep anymore," she reminded him, smiling. "Except as a reason to keep breathing --" "You don't need air." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm still new at this Guardian thing. So just shut up, and let me tell you that I love you.

How come no one idolizes or praises the missionaries who give up everything and live in poverty, endangering their lives and their families with every danger that the American dream has almost completely eliminated? How come no one lifts up and exalts the ghetto and prison ministers and preachers? Because we are taught early on 1) that comfort is our goal and security and 2) that we should always seek for a lot of people to like us.

We shall fight on the beaches," said Churchill in 1940, "we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender." Only "surrender" is not Old English. That, in itself, might be significant.

A great day in the annals of two ancient nations, Egypt and Israel, whose sons met in battle five times, fighting and falling…. It is thanks to our fallen heroes that we could have reached this day.

Some must be warriors, that others may live in peace.

He was lost. He knew it. He had neither the size nor the strength to defeat her, and she had him cornered. But he would fight. He was a warrior, the prince-son of the unicorns, and he meant to go down fighting. There would be no songs to mark his death; and none of his people would even know. But he had saved Korr and the others of the band. It was noon — they were safe out of the hills by now, and none of the rest of it mattered.

Football players, like prostitutes, are in the business of ruining their bodies for the pleasure of strangers.

Since self cannot be converted, it must be crucified. In no other way can one experience deliverance from the tyranny of self.

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?Another day older and deeper in debt.Saint Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't goI owe my soul to the company store.

She was the one who's life my presence can do magic, For that I left my dream it was the only logic

Motherhood has a very humanizing effect. Everything gets reduced to essentials.

Nessa noite se solveram, mãos de oleiro, salvando o outro de ter peso. Nessa noite o corpo de um foi lençol do outro. e ambos foram pássaros porque o tempo deles foi antes de haver terra. e quando ela gritou de prazer o mundo ficou cego: um moinho de braços se desfez ao vento. E mais nenhum destino havia.