Quotes About Sword

Your way would have involved making several more corpses. Well, I am a sword, Nightblood said with a mental huff. Might as well stick to what you're good at.…

He grabbed the sword from the man he had felled, holding the weapon in unpracticed hands, staring down a much larger force. "I was wrong about that one, Mistress," Sazed said softly. "I ... apologize." Vin smiled.

I swear, my dear. Sometimes our conversations remind me of a broken sword." She raised an eyebrow. "Sharp as hell," Lightsong said, "but lacking a point.

Dragons were dangerous in the sky. Of course, they were dangerous on the ground too. Just less dangerous. In the same way that a sword is less dangerous so long as it's pointed at someone else.

Brother?" Gavilar said. Dalinar turned back and regarded Gavilar, who was bathed by the bleeding light of a fire reaching its end. "Words are important," Gavilar said. "Much more than you give them credit for being." "Perhaps," Dalinar said. "But if they were all-powerful, you wouldn't need my sword, would you?" "Perhaps. I can't help feeling words would be enough, if only I knew the right ones to say.

Words are important," Gavilar said. "Much more than you give them credit for being." "Perhaps," Dalinar said. "But if they were all-powerful, you wouldn't need my sword, would you?" "Perhaps. I can't help feeling words would be enough, if only I knew the right ones to say.

Nonsense. The sword is worth far more than that. I'll throw in a pair of penis.

I swear, my dear. Sometimes our conversations remind me of a broken sword." She raised an eyebrow. "Sharp as hell," Lightsong said, "but lacking a point.

And without further argument he unsheathed the sword and cleaved Miss Foxe's head from her neck. He knew what was supposed to happen. He knew that this awkward, whispering creature before him should now transform into a princess - dazzlingly beautiful, free, and made wise by her hardship. That is not what happened.

slander is a more cruel weapon than a sword, as the wounds which the former gives are always incurable.

With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship

With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this.

With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

I've always fancied being a bit of warrior, on a horse swinging a sword around, sorting out the men... Oh yes, that sounds lovely.

I've only kept one award in my whole life, and it's the coolest thing ever. Mizuno gave me a samurai sword for winning the Cy Young. It's awesome.

The sword of life is the truth of salvation.

Lindsay's hauling up the Titan sword, holding it up like she has the power.

The term "bear," according to Noah Webster, meant "to carry" or "to wear; to bear as a mark of authority or distinction; as, to bear a sword, a badge, a name; to bear arms in a coat.

Faith has no use for the sword, because those who ride with the sword to defend their faith ride with the devil by their side.

Arthur was simply there in their midst, the sword in his hand.

He holds the sword!' shouted Merlin. 'And that has not changed. Whoever would be king must first take the sword from Arthur's hand. For I tell you truly, none among you will be king without it!

Great Light, Mover of all that is moving and at rest, be my Journey and my far Destination, be my Want and my Fulfilling, be my Sowing and my Reaping, be my glad Song and my stark Silence. Be my Sword and my strong Shield, be my Lantern and my dark Night, be my everlasting Strength and my piteous Weakness. Be my Greeting and my parting Prayer, be my bright Vision and my Blindness, be my Joy and my sharp Grief, be my sad Death and my sure Resurrection!

Arthur stood alone in the centre of the ring of kings. In the flickering light of the Christ Mass candles, holding the sword easily by the hilt, alert, resolute, unafraid, he appeared an avenging angels, eyes alight with the bright fire of righteousness.

Arthur's fingers tighten on the silver-braided hilt: see how naturally it fits his hand! He pulls. The Sword of Britain slides from its stone sheath. The ease with which this is accomplished shines in the wonder in Arthur's eyes. He truly cannot believe what he has done. Nor can he comprehend what it means.