Quotes About Weapon

It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork.

What the hell was he carrying this shit around for?" the second vamp demanded. "It's useful in making captures, subduing difficult prisoners." Pritkin shrugged. "Then . . . this is a weapon." "Yes." "But he was going on a date." Pritkin looked confused.

We're going jogging." "I don't run for recreation. I run when someone's after me with a weapon." "That can be arranged

Try a rocket launcher. Think maybe you could manage to hit me with that?

Like is an emotion. Emotions"—he raised a hand, made a fist, clenched it tightly—"are like holding water. You open your hand, there's nothing there. Better to be a weapon than a woman.

Emotions"—he raised a hand, made a fist, clenched it tightly—"are like holding water. You open your hand, there's nothing there. Better to be a weapon than a woman.

I will choose anything over fear. Rage is fuel. Rage is gasoline. And Ryodan wasn't completely right—because rage, wielded as a weapon, with focus, purpose, and skill, is also massively useful energy. Anger can refine, distill, clarify.

The kingdom of Winter is a diamond-crusted study of beautiful cruelties, lovely and inimically dangerous, for each alluring facet contains a hidden weapon or terror. It's brutally cold—we ice where we stand—so I adjust our body temperatures by erecting a slice of warmer climate around us, and ice sloughs off us in great, melting sheets.

Hope is a necessity for normal life and the major weapon against the suicide impulse.

I had always been a great talker and teller of tales. 'You should put a lock on that tongue of yours. It's long enough and sharp enough to slit your own throat,' our guardian warned me, the night before I left home to go to the royal court at Versailles ... I just laughed. 'Don't you know a woman's tongue is her sword? You wouldn't want me to let my only weapon rust, would you?

Perhaps patriarchy's greatest psychological weapon is simply its universality and longevity. A

The proof is by reductio ad absurdum, and reductio ad absurdum, which Euclid loved so much, is one of a mathematician's finest weapons5. It is a far finer gambit than any chess gambit: a chess player may offer the sacrifice of a pawn or even a piece, but a mathematician offers the game.

Marx, should you take a weapon?" This is the question of a serious gamer. A gamer should never enter a potential combat situation without checking one's inventory and confirming the availability of a weapon.

As one would expect, the Devil's tools are all ominous, but oddly, the highest-priced item in his arsenal is an extremely worn and harmless-looking wedge. When asked why it is so expensive, the Devil slowly smiles and replies, "To be totally candid, this may be my most powerful weapon of all. I call it the wedge of doubt. When all my other tools fail me, I know I can always rely on doubt and discouragement to break the heart and shatter the will of man.

Unconfessed or unatoned sin is the weapon that a spirit uses against its host and its enemies.

Any weapon is a good weapon as long as ye can use it with honor and skill.

When a man carries an instrument of violence, he'll always find the justification to use it. If we really want to escape this war, we have to stop bringing it with us.

A dagger is the noble weapon of Brutus. Everyone understands that tyrants fall to daggers. A bomb is a sordid modern device with many complex working parts. Only engineers understand bombs

William," the professor said, softly, "what now is your weapon?"...."Truth," he whispered, his voice rasping. He cleared his throat. "Truth is my sword." ...."And what now is your defense?" Colour returned to Billy's face, and his jaw tightened. His voice surged with emotion. "Faith...faith is my shield.

Kim: Hey... There's a guy over there with a samurai sword. Scott: Really? Like a katana or a wakizashi or both?

Throwing aside the counterpane, there lay the tomahawk sleeping by the savage's side, as if it were a hatchet-faced baby.

Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.

Vain is your boast in that you have scratched the sole of my foot... A worthless coward can inflict but a light wound. When I wound a man, though I but graze his skin, it is another matter, for my weapon will lay him low. His wife will tear her cheeks out for grief and his children will be fatherless: there he will rot, reddening the earth with his blood, and vultures, not women, will gather round him.

A royal robe he wore with graceful pride, A two-edged falchion threaten'd by his side, Embroider'd sandals glitter'd as he trod, And forth he moved, majestic as a god.