Quotes About Swords

A hero called Adin rose from the ranks of the people. He was an ordinary man, a blacksmith who made swords and armor and shoes for horses. But he had been blessed with strsngth, courage, and cleverness.

In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets - when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta - there lived a tailor in Gloucester.

There was no pain when I awoke, No pain at all. Rest, like a goad, Spurred my eyes open -- and light broke Upon them like a million swords: And she was there. There are no words. Heaven is for a moment's span. And ever.

flames dancing on their dueling swords. One of the squirt painters stepped out beside them. Oh

As a child I was really into fantasy books with elves and goblins and swords, and I went through a phase for a few years when I was reading endless series. But in the end I became totally fed-up with all these sub-Tolkien rip-offs because they all end up doing the same old things and there's no rigour to it.

We have rules One-Ear." The man smiled faintly at Mrs. Francis. "Ladies are not to be hacked apart with swords. It reflects badly on pirates in general and on our outfit in particular.

King Dan sat on his stallion fierce Swords did slice and spears did pierce But in a tree upon the field Perched a small, keen-eyed blackbird And the blackbird did not sing No, the blackbird did not sing

I had a moment to wonder just what he did at David Emerson's, which really was where Libertyville's elite bought. Was he a salesman? I could see him showing some smart young lady around, saying, Here's one fuck of a nice couch, ma'am, and look at this goddam settee, we sure didn't have nothing like that on Guadalcanal when those fucking stoned-out Japs came at us with their Maxwell House swords.

They got rid of most of their guns, and took advantage of the surprisingly easy Canadian laws about swords.

Superheroes don't use swords?" Diehl said gleefully. "What about Nightcrawler? Deadpool? Electra, Shatterstar, Green Arrow, Hawkeye—oh, and then there's Blade and Katana! Two superheroes who are actually named after swords! Oh, and Wolverine had that idiotic Muramasa Blade made with part of his soul. Which, while incredibly lame, was still a far cooler magical weapon than Sting!

It's fucking lame, is what it is! The swords look like they were made out of tinfoil. And that soundtrack is epically lame. Full of synthesizers and shit. By the motherfucking Alan Parsons Project! Lame-o-rama! Beyond lame. Highlander II lame.

When you get to the point where you're established enough that people link you with something, especially being an action hero babe, it's awesome. Because then you can fight the battles and have the crossbows and wrestle with swords and ride the horses because you're already believable; people see you in that genre.

What populates a comic-book convention? Well there's actors, and there's dealers, and there's comic-book artists and writers, and there's cosplay people, toy sales people, people who are selling trading cards, and people selling swords. It's not a flea market.

Ah! how true it was that conscience was a thousand swords.

Hall of Love has ten thousand swords. Don't be afraid to use one.

Swords don't glorify the creator-God. Love does. Self-giving love, best of all.

It is in the blood of genius to love play for its own sake, and whether one uses one's skill on thrones or women, swords or pens, gold or fame, the game's the thing.

You had to draw lines, and that choice was in itself dangerous; all boundaries had a double edge, were like swords that could always be turned against you in the end. But you still had to choose.

Yet a little country in a big land has a small future. I knew that. To our north was Constantine's Alba, which we called Scotland, and Constantine feared the Saxons to our south. The Saxons and the Scots were both Christians, and Christians tell us that their god is love, and we must love one another and turn the other cheek, but when land is at stake those beliefs fly away and swords are drawn.

In truth, my Anglophilia is fundamentally bookish: I yearn for one of those country house libraries, lined on three walls with mahogany bookshelves, their serried splendor interrupted only by enough space to display, above the fireplace, a pair of crossed swords or sculling oars and perhaps a portrait of some great English worthy.

I love family reunions. Maybe next year we could pass out samurai swords.

They glided out of the heat-haze on their camels like specters. There were twenty of them, and they were Tuareg. Their faces were hidden by black veils that left only slits for the eyes, and they wore purple robes that fluttered in the desert wind. They carried swords, muskets and seven-foot iron spears, and wore stilettos in sheaths on their left forearms. They were an impressive, sinister sight.

Oh, be silent!" Elric cried. "For a god, you talk too much. Take the swords—and give me back my wife!

Three swift swords for the sisters three; The first shall be of ivory; The second sword's forged of rarest gold; The third shall be cut from a granite fold. The first sword's name is Just Old Man; And the second is called The Urgent Brand; While the third thirsty sword of that glamour'd three Is the hungry blade named Liberty. --Ernest Wheldrake, Border Ballads