Quotes About Battle

I have spent half my life in the business of destruction. The other half in the dogged pursuit of self-destruction.

Silence is a warrior's best armour, the saying goes. Hard looks and hard words have never won a battle yet, but they've lost a few.

There's only one kind of good news, and that's dead enemies.

A shifting sea of jabbing weapons, squealing shields, shining metal, bone shattered, blood splattered, furious, terrified faces washing all round him, squirming and wriggling, and he hacked and chopped and split them like a mad butcher going at a carcass.

Something dug into the Bloody-Nine's back, but there was no pain. It was a sign. A message in a secret tongue, that only he could understand. It told him where the next dead man was standing. He reeled around and the sword followed him in a furious, beautiful, irresistible arc. It crunched into someone's guts, folded him in half, snatched him off his feet and flung him through the air. He

The Northman chuckled. 'Fearlessness is a fool's boast, to my mind. The only men with no fear in them are the dead, or the soon to be dead, maybe. Fear teaches you caution, and respect for your enemy, and to avoid sharp edges used in anger. All good things in their place, believe me. Fear can bring you out alive, and that's the very best anyone can hope for from any fight. Every man who's worth a damn feels fear. It's the use you make of it that counts.

In bloody days, swords were worth more than gods. They certainly had 'em outnumbered.

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.

War's ninety-nine parts boredom and, now and then, one part arse-opening terror.

In the songs, Angulf Clovenfoot's Gettlanders fell upon the Vanstermen like hawks from an evening sky. Master Hunnan's misfits fell on Rissentoft like a herd of sheep down a steep flight of steps.

Trouble with the good fight, I find… once

Hand of iron! Head of iron! Heart of iron!" And he lashed blindly with his sword over the shield wall. "Your death comes, sang the hundred!

War?' 'It's when a fight gets so big almost no one comes out of it well.

Trouble with the good fight, I find... once the fight starts, the good stops.

Fuck,' he whispered. 'Aye,' said Shivers. Craw almost took a tumble on the wet grass. 'Til he remembered there was an awful lot a man could be saying fuck about. That's the beauty of the word. It can mean just about anything, depending on how things stand. Horror, shock, pain, fear, worry. None were out of place. There was a battle on.

You don't plan... to fight, Your Majesty?' 'Bloody hell, no. But I plan to damn well look like I might.

First, always do your best to look the coward, the weakling, the fool, Silence is a warrior's best armour, the saying goes. Hard looks and hard words have never won a battle yet, but they've lost a few.

I have to fight fire with fire.' 'That'll win you naught but ashes,

There's only room for one hero in this story-and everyone knows the devil doesn't get to be the good guy.

in the battle between anxiety and social custom, social custom almost always won.

It's like going into a nuclear war with bows and arrows.

I say, don't try to fight your own battles because God will do it.

If you will remain at rest and hold your peace, then the battle is not yours, but the battle is the Lord's.

God is fighting your battles. When you're at rest, God will make your enemies your footstool.