Sir Percival Quotes

This land needed a sword forged in the hottest of fires to regain what was lost...and you are that sword. ~ S. Alexander O'Keefe

Some people call that picturesque' said Sir Percival, pointing over the wide prospect with his half-finished walking-stick. 'I call it a blot on a gentleman's property. In my great-grandfather's time, the lake flowed to this place. Look at it now! It is not four feet deep anywhere, and it is all puddles and pools. I wish I could afford to drain it, and plant it all over. My bailiff (a superstitious idiot) says he is quite sure the lake has a curse on it, like the Dead Sea. What do you think, Fosco? It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it?'
'My good Percival!' remonstrated the Count. 'What is your solid English sense thinking of? The water is too shallow to hide the body; and there is sand everywhere to print off the murderer's footsteps. It is, upon the whole, the very worst place for a murder that I ever set my eyes on. ~ Wilkie Collins

Her voice sounding young and nearly giddy in her ears, she asked, "Are you certain, sir, you ought to kiss a housemaid?" No answering chuckle. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life," he whispered, his breath tickling her upper lip with each syllable. ~ Julie Klassen

Welcome to the Folly," he said. "Official home of English magic since 1775." "And your patron saint is Sir Isaac Newton?" I asked. Nightingale grinned. "He was our founder and the first man to systemize the practice of magic." "I was taught that he invented modern science," I said. "He did both," said Nightingale. "That's the nature of genius." Nightingale ~ Ben Aaronovitch

Our fellow Negro citizens could be summed up in something Tessie said after watching Sidney Poitier's performance in To Sir with Love, which opened a month before the riots. She said, You see, they can speak perfectly normal if they want. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

Haven't you got anything humorous that stays away from waters and valleys and God? I'd like to keep away from the subject of religion altogether if we can."
The chaplain was apologetic. "I'm sorry, sir, but just about all the prayers I know are rather somber in tone and make at least some passing reference to God. ~ Joseph Heller

Shakespeare will not allow Falstaff to die upon stage. We see and hear the deaths of Hamlet, Cleopatra, Antony, Othello, and Lear. Iago is led away to die silently under torture. Macbeth dies offstage but he goes down fighting. Falstaff dies singing the Twenty-third Psalm, smiling upon his fingertips, playing with flowers, and crying aloud to God three or four times. That sounds more like pain than prayer.
We do not want Sir John Falstaff to die. And of course he does not. He is life itself. ~ Harold Bloom

God," she moaned.
"I usually suggest Sir or Master, but I suppose God is adequately respectful. ~ Cherise Sinclair

"We thought that, perhaps," said I, hesitating, "it is right to begin with the obligations of home, sir; and that, perhaps, while those are overlooked and neglected, no other duties can possibly be substituted for them." ~ Charles Dickens

Given a choice of weapons with you sir, I should choose grammar. ~ Halliwell Hobbes

He went on thus to call over names celebrated in Scottish song, and most of which had recently received a romantic interest from his own pen. In fact, I saw a great part of the border country spread out before me, and could trace the scenes of those poems and romances which had, in a manner, bewitched the world. I gazed about me for a time with mute surprise, I may almost say with disappointment. I beheld a mere succession of gray waving hills, line beyond line, as far as my eye could reach; monotonous in their aspect, and so destitute of trees, that one could almost see a stout fly walking along their profile; and the far-famed Tweed appeared a naked stream, flowing between bare hills, without a tree or thicket on its banks; and yet, such had been the magic web of poetry and romance thrown over the whole, that it had a greater charm for me than the richest scenery I beheld in England.
I could not help giving utterance to my thoughts. Scott hummed for a moment to himself, and looked grave; he had no idea of having his muse complimented at the expense of his native hills. "It may be partiality," said he, at length; "but to my eye, these gray hills and all this wild border country have beauties peculiar to themselves. I like the very nakedness of the land; it has something bold, and stern, and solitary about it. When I have been for some time in the rich scenery about Edinburgh, which is like ornamented garden land, I begin to wish myself back again among my own honest gra ~ Washington Irving

Speculation has been singularly fruitful as to what these markings on our next to nearest neighbor in space may mean. Each astronomer holds a different pet theory on the subject, and pooh-poohs those of all the others. Nevertheless, the most self-evident explanation from the markings themselves is probably the true one; namely, that in them we are looking upon the result of the work of some sort of intelligent beings ... The amazing blue network on Mars hints that one planet besides our own is actually inhabited now. ~ Percival Lowell

But, sir, I shall take the path of duty and shall not swerve from it. ~ Benjamin F. Wade

Ground rules, Tanner," he growled. Tanner paled. More good. "No alcohol. No smoking. No drugs. No looking at other girls. You can dance with my daughter. Your hands will avoid the danger zones, which are here, here and here." Liam gestured to his chest, groin and ass. "You can kiss her. Once. At 10:59 p.m. tonight, when you'll be standing here once again. I will be on the other side of this door, waiting for her. Am I clear?" "Yes, sir," Tanner whispered. "I was your age once, too," Liam said. "I'm aware of that, sir." "I know what you think about." "I'm sorry." "You can think it. You can't do it." "Okay." "I have many sharp tools in my garage." "Yes, sir." "We're clear, then?" "Very, sir." "Good!" Liam smiled, then grabbed the boy by the shoulder and dragged him in. "Nicole! Your date's here. ~ Kristan Higgins

Then one day our phone rang, and the voice on the other end said, "I need to talk to Mr. Robertson."
"Yeah, that's me," I answered.
"Are you the one who's getting duck calls into Walmart stores?" the man asked me.
"Yes, that's me," I told him.
"Son, let me ask you a question," he said. "How did you get duck calls into the Walmart chain without going through me?"
"Well, just who are you?" I asked.
"I'm the buyer for Walmart!" he screamed.
There was a pause.
"One store at a time," I told him.
There was a long pause.
"Let me get this right," he said. "You mean to tell me you've been driving around in your pickup truck and convincing our sporting goods departments to buy duck calls without even conferring with me, who's supposed to be doing the buying for the whole Walmart chain?"
"Sir, I didn't mean to slight you or anything," I said. "Look, I didn't even know who you were. Bentonville's a long way. I'm just trying to survive down here!"
He thought about that for a minute, then said, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. Anybody who can pull a stunt like that, I'm going to write you a letter authorizing you to do what you've been doing."
"Man, I appreciate that," I told him.
"I'm going to authorize you to go into our stores," he said. "You'll have that letter from me, and that makes it all aboveboard."
"Hey, I'd appreciate any help you can give me," I said.
So the buyer in Bentonville wrote me a lette ~ Phil Robertson

I couldn't make it in a chicken world, sir, so I hit the road in search of something better. ~ John A. Heldt

Yes sir. You can be more careless, you can put more trash in [a novel] and be excused for it. In a short story that's next to the poem, almost every word has got to be almost exactly right. In the novel you can be careless but in the short story you can't. I mean by that the good short stories like Chekhov wrote. That's why I rate that second - it's because it demands a nearer absolute exactitude. You have less room to be slovenly and careless. There's less room in it for trash. ~ William Faulkner

He remembered an old tale which his father was fond of telling him - the story of Eos Amherawdur (the Emperor Nightingale). Very long ago, the story began, the greatest and the finest court in all the realms of faery was the court of the Emperor Eos, who was above all the kings of the Tylwydd Têg, as the Emperor of Rome is head over all the kings of the earth. So that even Gwyn ap Nudd, whom they now call lord over all the fair folk of the Isle of Britain, was but the man of Eos, and no splendour such as his was ever seen in all the regions of enchantment and faery. Eos had his court in a vast forest, called Wentwood, in the deepest depths of the green-wood between Caerwent and Caermaen, which is also called the City of the Legions; though some men say that we should rather name it the city of the Waterfloods. Here, then, was the Palace of Eos, built of the finest stones after the Roman manner, and within it were the most glorious chambers that eye has ever seen, and there was no end to the number of them, for they could not be counted. For the stones of the palace being immortal, they were at the pleasure of the Emperor. If he had willed, all the hosts of the world could stand in his greatest hall, and, if he had willed, not so much as an ant could enter into it, since it could not be discerned. But on common days they spread the Emperor's banquet in nine great halls, each nine times larger than any that are in the lands of the men of Normandi. And Sir Caw was the seneschal ~ Arthur Machen

Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was hunting him down. But that cry of pain from the hound had blown all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he was mortal, and if we could wound him we could kill him. Never have I seen a man run as Holmes ran that night. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

The next time you call me Sir, it better be when you are begging for me to let you come. ~ Harper Sloan

Socks are Dobby's favorite, favorite clothes, sir!" he said, ripping off his odd ones and pulling on Uncle Vernon's. "I has seven now, sir. . . . But sir . . ." he said, his eyes widening, having pulled both socks up to their highest extent, so that they reached to the bottom of his shorts, "they has made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same! ~ J.K. Rowling

Sir 25:8 Much experience is the crown of old men, and the fear of God is their glory. ~ Various

You, sir, are a ray of sunshine.
-Percy Jackson ~ Rick Riordan

You, sir," I said, "have all the dignity of a badger with the clap. Shark shit has more fiber than you. I'm going to tie your nuts-first to a monkey's cage and make a mix tape of the resulting noise. Then I'm going to take a bag of marshmallows and a pair of granny panties and-" ...
... He didn't want to know what I was going to do with those granny panties. Surprisingly, Granuaile did. "Sensei, what were you going to do with those marshmallows and panties?" she whispered as we walked together. "I mean, I'm sure it had to be dire, but it just didn't sound as threatening as the potential havoc a monkey could wreak on his sack."
"There was more to that recipe," I admitted. "He cut me off before I could get to the Icy Hot and the gopher snake. ~ Kevin Hearne

Hence it is that old men do plant young trees, the fruit whereof another age shall take. ~ Sir John Davies

Ramses. I had long since resigned myself to the impossibility of teaching Emerson the proper subjects of conversation before the servants. Wilkins is not resigned; but there is nothing he can do about it. Not only does Emerson rant on and on about personal matters at the dinner table, but he often consults Wilkins and John. Wilkins has a single reply to all questions: "I really could not say, sir." John, who had never been in service before he came to us, had adapted very comfortably to Emerson's habits. ~ Elizabeth Peters

HH Beard has perfected ... 3 excellent (urine) cancer tests, all of proven accuracy of 95% or better ... in 1942 and onwards. ~ Sir Arthur Harris, 1st Baronet

What are your duties?" said Vimes. "To Serve The Public Trust, Protect The Innocent, And Seriously Prod Buttock, Sir," said Dorfl. ~ Terry Pratchett

Okay, you're older. Not much, really. And considering you love staying in shape and I refuse to run, we'll probably get all old and crippled at the same time. If not, then I'll learn to use a cane, and I'll get to beat on your ass for a change. ~ Cherise Sinclair

You know what, Peabody? Justice means a little more to me than a pretty gold star on my record or some fucking captain's bars. And if you want to go run after lover boy and stroke his ego, no one's stopping you.'
Peabody's jaw twitched, but her voice was even. 'I'm not going anywhere, Lieutenant.'
'Fine, just stand here and look martyred because I - ' In midtirade, Eve stopped, sucked in her breath. 'I'm sorry. You're a goddamn handy target at the moment, Peabody.'
'Is that part of my job description? Sir.'
'You always have a fine comeback. I could learn to hate you for that. ~ J.D. Robb

I have heard many arguments which influenced my opinion, but never one which influenced my vote. ~ Sir James Fergusson, 6th Baronet

Oh no, Jack, you're mixing up premonitions with intuition now. Come, now, Sir Alington, you must admit that premonitions are real?"

To a certain extent, perhaps," admitted the physician cautiously. "But coincidence accounts for a good deal,and then there is the invariable tendency to make the most of a story afterwards -- you've always got to take that into account."

"I don't think there is any such thing as premonition," said Claire Tent, rather abruptly. "Or intuition, or a sixth sense, or any of the things we talk about so glibly. We go through life like a train rushing through the darkness to an unknown destination. ~ Agatha Christie

Sir Kile, you're lived in the palace your whole life," Gavril said, walking across the stage. "How do you think your life might change were you to become prince?"
"Id definitely need to focus more on my hygiene."
"Pfffft!" I covered my mouth, so embarrassed, but I couldn't stop laughing.
"Oh! Sounds like someone over there agrees."

-the Heir ~ Keira Cass

He will always be my Sir Galahad. ~ Ava Gardner

Simplicity is a sign of being awake. ~ Sir Kristian Goldmund Aumann

O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted. I will give out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labeled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. ~ William Shakespeare

The scientific truth may be put quite briefly; eat moderately, having an ordinary mixed diet, and don't worry. ~ Sir Robert Hutchison, 1st Baronet

What would you do if Ree became gravely ill?" Father Johnson asked Marlboro Man.
"Well, sir," Marlboro Man replied, "I'd take care of her."
"Who's going to do the cooking in your household?"
Marlboro Man smiled. "Ree's a great cook," he answered. I sat up proudly in my chair, trying not to remember the Linguine with Clam Sauce and the Marinated Flank Steak and whatever other well-intentioned meals I'd massacred early in our relationship.
"What about the dishes?" Father Johnson continued, channeling Gloria Steinem. "See yourself helping out there?"
Marlboro Man scratched his chin and paused. "Sure," he said. "Honestly, these aren't really things we've sat down and talked about." His voice was kind. Polite.
I wanted to crawl in a hole. I wanted to have my gums scraped. I wanted to go fight that huge prairie fire from a while back. Anything would be better than this.
"Have you talked about how many children you'd like to have?"
"Yes, sir," Marlboro Man said.
"And?" Father Johnson prodded.
"I'd like to have six or so," Marlboro Man answered, a virile smile spreading across his face.
"And what about Ree?" Father Johnson asked.
"Well, she says she'd like to have one," Marlboro Man said, looking at me and touching my knee. "But I'm workin' on her. ~ Ree Drummond

Sir always had a thing for calves. They were soft and smooth, like all skin on a woman. But the calf flesh was backed by muscle, so there was a firmness you wouldn't find at the hips, say, or in the small of the back. But it wasn't boney like the front of the leg. No, the calf was pretty much the closest thing to the perfection of breast tissue you could touch on a woman without getting your hand slapped away. ~ Joshua Edward Smith

Isia stepped forward. "Yes, sir. I know." Holding his fine brilliant wings above his body, he stood in front of us with his luminous lidless eyes full upon us. "I'm sorry to leave you. We've shared a lot together, and you have loved me even when I was ugly. But we'll see each other. Good-bye. ~ Sheila Moon

He swung it open and presented me with a single red rose.
"For you," he said.
"Very gallant," I replied. "Of course you do realize I have the same cut flower in my room."
Ben glanced over his shoulder at the now empty bud vase sitting on his table. "Hmm. Didn't really think that out. Still gallant?"
"Very."
"You happen to look ravishing tonight." He said it with a British accent that made me laugh out loud.
"As do you, sir," I responded in kind.
"Excellent. Shall we go, then?" He extended his arm and I linked my own through it, first shifting my camera bag to my other shoulder so it wouldn't bang between us. ~ Hilary Duff

About thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet's lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. ~ Jane Austen

Hadrian held the headphones close to one ear. "What is this, Eden? You're listening to music? Stupid, crappy music?"
The square-jawed man stared blankly at him. "It's Celine Dion, sir."
"Get security up here! I want this man in irons. Prepare the Dark Hole! ~ Steven Erikson

[...] The idea of honor in battle has been passed down for generations. It went from Greece to Rome, to the medieval world and the Crusades. It was beloved of Sir Philip Sidney, Essex and Southampton [...]. In many ways, the British Empire was founded on it [...] The idea came to a halt in the First World War [...] The poets, led by Wilfred Owen, told the truth about it "[...] The old lie : 'Dulce el decorum est pro patria mori'.
[...]Henry IV Part I is a play with much "honor". Honor is its central theme. So let's examine Henry IV Part I for a moment, to understand the ingredients of "honor". [...] You will notice there are not many women in these plays [about honor]-and when they appear, they are usually whores or faifthful wives. Honor is not a woman's story[...] 'What is honour? A word', (...) a mere scutcheon" [says] Falstaff's iconoclasm and truthful vision about honor.
{...]There are several things we can see in all this. The first is that war is a man´s game, it is intolerable, and the only way you can get people to do it is to make the alternative seem a hundred times worse [...] Therefore, valor must be glorified, if not deified. [...] ~ Tina Packer