Quotes About Sacrifice

Yarvi soon learned only to sip the results, since unwrapping to piss in that cold was an act of heroism that earned grunted congratulations from the others, all the more heartfelt since everyone knew sooner or later they would have to present their own nethers to the searing wind.

I'm not sir, I'm Corporal Tunny.' 'Sorry, Corporal Tunny.' 'Now look. I don't want you here and you don't want to be here—' 'I want to be here,' said Lederlingen. 'You do?' 'Volunteered.' A trace of pride in his voice. 'Vol … un … teered?' Tunny wrestled with the word as if it belonged to a foreign language. 'So they do exist.

He shook his head as he peered down at the corpses. "Some courage, to come at us like this, over and over, against defences so strong and so well manned. I've rarely seen men so willing to give their lives." "They have that most strange and dangerous of qualities," said Cosca. "They think they're in the right.

Give Yarvi the knife since he has just one hand to hold it. One hand, perhaps, but the blood of kings in his veins!" "It's keeping it there that worries me," said Yarvi under his breath.

It was a bad day for men, all in all, and a good one for the ground. Always the way, after a battle. Only the ground wins.

Very little worth anything is ever given away.

Sometimes Wile wondered whether a cause could be right that needed folk burned, cut and otherwise mutilated.

You'll never hold up someone who can't swim for themselves. In the end, they'll drag you down with them.

Minden varázslatnak ára van, és azt senki sem fizeti meg szívesen.

But these were desperate times. And in desperate times, one must sometimes call upon the services of monsters.

The most heroic deaths of all were the pointless ones,

The pilot of a foundering vessel, perhaps, looking to his captain, silently asking if they really did intend to go down with the ship. Perhaps that's why captains do go down with their ships. No better ideas.

A cock's not for pleasing yourself, boy, it's for pleasing others. Maybe that's where you're going wrong.

A merész önfeláldozással az a gond, hogy merészségre van hozzá szükség és önfeláldozásra.

He glanced at the mayhem beyond the walls. "The time has come for someone to nobly sacrifice themselves. In the absence of anyone better qualified… it will have to be me.

As with so many things in life, heroic last stands are a great deal more appealing in concept than in reality.

He had helped her, often. Financial assistance, from the good of his heart. That was why he kept coming here. To help these poor girls, driven into lives of debauchery by the harsh times. If they wished to express their natural gratitude, he would not demean them by refusing.

Leo saw now that his father had been wrong. It's after the battle. That's when a man finds out who he truly is. He was no hero. He never had been. He was a fool. A great bloated tower of vanity. It had got his friends, his allies and hundreds who'd followed him killed. Now it would get him killed, too.

It's easy to scream about the fence when you're on the wrong side of it. Some mad twist of fortune lands you on the right side, though, the fence starts to look like it might not be such a bad idea. Might even be worth all the sacrifices. Other people's sacrifices aren't that hard to make.

Someone who'd starved in the camps, who'd lied her way into the hearts and beds of good people, who'd tricked and tortured to betray a cause she halfway believed in for the sake of one she didn't at all, might've felt a little bitter at seeing all this money wasted.

I did a good thing, and so, of course, there is a price to be paid.

Do you want this bauble?' He drew is knife now and held it out to Yarvi by the bright blade. "Then take it. But know that Mother War breathed upon me in my crib, it has been foreseen that no man kill me.

Savine had once felt nowhere more at home than here, flitting from one opportunity to another, hopes and dreams left wrecked in her wake. Now all she wanted was to slit the laces of her corset and sag down with her children, slap the stopper from the decanter and never put it back.

When the fighting is over you dig, if you're still alive. You dig graves for your dead comrades, A last mark of respect, however little you might have had for them. You dig as deep as you can bothered, you dump then in, you cover them up, they rot away and are forgotten. That's the way it's always been.