Sword And Sorcery Quotes

I didn't falter and together we matched, step for step. Each swing of the sword was blocked, each step countered. No blade ever made contact with flash. We twirled around; my concentration far too focussed to feel dizzy. All I could see was Macrucio's wicked smirk, one that reminded me far more of my past than even Nathaniel did. I wasn't fighting Macrucio now; it was my former life I had to eradicate. ~ Freedom Matthews

At last they came to the lower slopes of the great mountains. Here she met a wild and bedraggled boy. He stumbled across her when she had stopped to rest and suckle the baby. The boy stared at the unlikely pair for a moment, then seated himself on the ground at a respectful distance, obviously preparing to converse. He was the strangest looking boy she had ever seen. Evidently a changeling like herself, for he was tall and straight with long slender limbs, but his hair was golden like the sun and his eyes a deep blue like the sky. He looked to be about fifteen years old, not quite a man, yet man enough to survive. She guessed he must have originated from the fabled district of Shor, in the far south, where it was rumoured that all the people were changelings, and all golden-haired.
Astelle tensed, fully expecting Torking to deliver one of his pain bolts to the curious boy, but the child seemed unperturbed, and simply carried on suckling. This boy's attention was obviously not deemed as a threat. She relaxed and smiled at the youth.
He returned the smile, white teeth startling against his tanned and dirty face. 'Why are you travelling all alone?' he asked.
Encouraged by Torking's mindwhispers, Astelle managed to concoct a story very close to the truth.
'As you can see, my child is rather unusual,' she explained. 'I could not bear to raise him among mortals who would constantly deride and insult him – and his father has left me, so I had no choice but to run ~ Bernie Morris

The Oracle handed her a small, leather bound booklet, about as thick as a pamphlet, and said, "You are a teacher, yes?"
It was nice of the Oracle to phrase things in the form of a question and let people feel they were imparting information. "Yes, I am."
"Excellent. I know teachers value learning, and this book has very valuable information on gargoyles. If Terak remains part of your life, this you'll want to know."
Larissa weighed it in her hand. "This is a very light history."
The Oracle arched one fine brow. "Why would I bother with that? This, my dear, is about how gargoyles mate. ~ Danielle Monsch

Science fiction without the science just becomes, you know, sword and sorcery, basically stories about heroism and not much more. ~ Michio Kaku

Recent studies have shown that approximately 40% of authors are manic depressive. The rest of us just drink. ~ Melodie Campbell

I've stolen books. They're the only thing worth taking that don't belong to you. ~ Sully Tarnish

I read H.P. Lovecraft. I also like Sword and Sorcery stuff, Arthurian legend. ~ Bruce Boxleitner

Doing what's right is always simple. Not easy, perhaps, but simple. ~ Helen C. Johannes

I'd always had a hankering to write some old-school sword and sorcery. And there certainly are advantages to that particular form - for one thing, you're able to go all-out on the imaginative front, with a lot less concern for the usual unities of time and space and character. ~ Richard K. Morgan

Soft sun shone down on a misty cathedral at the opposite end of a football-field length courtyard. The cathedral had a long pointed tower with beautiful rose and ivory stained glass windows. Pink-petal flowers and deep green ivy climbed the stones from the ground to it's roof. A large fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard with water falling from several lion's heads. Between the misty air and rolling slope of the earth, the grounds reminded me of a long lost fairy tale. ~ Priya Ardis

When a mortal man breaks a people, it is always blamed on the gods. ~ S.M. White

You pathetic humans! It escapes me how you endure any trial long enough even to breed, yet here you are. And why do your kind persist at all? Because every now and then - once a century, perhaps - ONE of you understands this: Death is what you accept only when you have spent all that you are - to the very last drop of your sweat and blood - in order to save what you love. That, son of Koronolan, is what a hero, a true warrior, would do. ~ Helen C. Johannes

How many did she kill?"
"Dozens, my Lord, until her sword was dull with the blood of her enemies."
Reign stroked the edge of the dagger with his forefinger until a drop of blood was drawn. The blood absorbed into the blade. "Only that? I will see her bathed in blood before me. ~ Danielle Monsch

Dragons were notoriously finicky about whom they ate, and thought it the height of bad manners to be kept waiting by their selected fare. ~ Sully Tarnish

Well, here were the ugly facts. She had no mad-ninja-skillz to rely on and her family didn't know where she was. She didn't know where she was. The only way she was leaving was if this creature allowed it. ~ Danielle Monsch

Fantasy encompasses a wide, wide spectrum of writing. We have beast fables, we have gothics, we have tales of vampires and werewolves, and we have sword and sorcery; we have epics from Homer, and there is just so much out there that we put under the umbrella of 'fantasy.' ~ Robin Hobb

While his brain lay slowly dying, Bevan felt his body come back to life. ~ Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

This woman was consuming him, bit by bit. She was becoming the reason and the reward of his existence, and if he did not shield himself, everything he did not have to give would belong to her. ~ Danielle Monsch

I don't do magic. I turn your attention back to Friday night and the big-ass sword I was carrying. My job is to run and swing. ~ Danielle Monsch

Blood answers blood, especially that given for the sake of others. ~ Helen C. Johannes

Put it away or use it."
I chuckled at Butch's threat. Flipping the sword in the air, I caught it with ease.
"Show off," he muttered swabbing at the wood around my chair. ~ Freedom Matthews

A man could only spend so much of his time ignoring the present before the present made him a thing of the past. ~ S.M. White

Finn," she protested. "I wasn't laughing like, with her." Izzy glowered at me. "She tried to kill me."
"Actually, I didn't," I broke in. There was a hard look in Aislinn's and Finley's eyes that scared the heck out of me. The last thing I wanted was to be held responsible for Elodie's actions, especially now that I was, technically, one of these women, and the words just came pouring out of my mouth. "See, I don't have powers anymore, because I was supposed to go through the Removal, and that sort of locked my magic away so that I can't use it. But there was this girl-well, this witch-Elodie, and because she passed her magic on to me when she died, we're connected. That means her ghost follows me around and stuff, so when you attacked me, she possessed my body. Which is new and, quite frankly, super freaky, and something that I haven't really processed yet. Anyway, she was the one who used magic on you. Oh, and held the sword to your throat, and said all that creepy stuff. I'm not creepy. At least not on purpose."
By now, all three Brannick women-all four, if you counted Mom-were staring at me. Man, what had that piney-tasting stuff been? The Brannick version of Red Bull?
"I'll, uh, stop talking now. ~ Rachel Hawkins

You are eating the sea, that's it, only the sensation of a gulp of sea water has been wafted out of it by some sorcery, and you are on the verge of remembering you don't know what, mermaids or the sudden smell of
kelp on the ebb tide or a poem you read once, something connected
with the flavor of life itself ... ~ Eleanor Clark

Jake Sullivan, elder of the Grimnoir Society, kept the sword and watched the sunrise. Someday he would pass it to his son. END ~ Anonymous

When I was done raking and bagging, I banged on the door and demanded entry /...let me in by the hair on your chinny, chin-chin/ (a fairytale moment there) Dick opened it and in his posthest voice, said that before he could possibly consider letting me re-cross the threshold he needed to ask me whether I was a good f*cking fairy or a bad f*cking fairy? Grinning, I told him that I was very wicked fairy and if he had a wand about his person that I could have lend of, I would prove it. He said that was the right answer and promptly yanked me inside where he located and presented me with his wand, breathily ordering the sorcerer's apprentice to perform magic with it. Judging by the look on his face afterwards, I knew I'd impressed him with my oral sorcery and I was more than happy with the short-lifting sorcery Shane performed on me as the same time. ~ Gillibran Brown

We mustn't claim to stand for our King but then deny Him by living a fleshly existence. Our King's Mighties don't shy away from the blazing searchlight of God's Word, but rather, willingly expose their souls and cry, 'Dear King, if there be anything that stands between You and me, if there be anything that shrouds Your glory, if there be anything that will weaken my sword in battle, purge it, slay it, utterly destroy it! ~ Eric Ludy

The question is," said Amelie, sounding like she had just come to the end of a long speech, "are you brave enough?"
"What?"
"I can't make you beautiful," said Amelie. "I'm going to give you the most beautiful makeup you've ever seen, but if you just sit under it and - and wilt, you'll look pathetic. It's like a sword. If you don't wield it, then it isn't any use to you. And it's all right if you want to look pathetic most of the time, but this is my one chance to show anyone what I can do, so you are not going to ruin it. Understood? ~ Rosamund Hodge

You're a tool, to be used and directed for the good of the people. Sometimes you'll be a scalpel, cutting out disease. Sometimes you'll be a sword, and you'll take on threats with all the strength you can muster. And sometimes, Odette, you'll be a stiletto, a hidden weapon that slides quietly into the heart. ~ Daniel O'Malley

It is easy to compress the passions by violence. Philosophy suppresses them with a stroke of the pen. Locks and the sword come to the aid of sweet morality, but nature appeals these judgments; she regains her rights in secret. Passion stifled at one point reappears at another like water held back by a dike; it is driven inward like the fluid of an ulcer closed to soon. ~ Charles Fourier

The world goes quiet and warm.
I am dying, he thinks, I have failed and there will be nothing left, nothing but ash and hungering darkness.
Something within him dims, fluttering to nothing like a flame fading to cold embers.
He tries to raise his sword.
He is falling…
He was…
… running the ashes of a dead world through his fingers. ~ John French

Drake skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, his eyes narrow as he looked over our little group. Behind him, Pal appeared, followed by a couple of dragons I didn't recognize.

"Aisling." Drake lowered his sword and walked slowly toward us, a frown darkening his eyes. "Where have you been? And what are you wearing?"

I pinched the back of Renaldo's hand until he released his hold on my face. "To hell and back, but that's a really long story, and not one I want to go into here. This is a curtain. I'd really rather not talk about it right now,either."

"Very well. We will leave the discussion of why you are clad in drapery for another time. The challenge has started. ~ Katie MacAlister

If slavery be the destined sword of the hand of the destroying angel which is to sever the ties of this Union, the same sword will cut in sunder the bonds of slavery itself. A dissolution of the Union for the cause of slavery would be followed by a servile war in the slave-holding States, combined with a war between the two severed portions of the Union. It seems to me that its result might be the extirpation of slavery from this whole continent; and, calamitous and desolating as this course of events in its progress must be, so glorious would be its final issue, that, as God shall judge me, I dare not say that it is not to be desired. ~ John Quincy Adams

Scared?"
Terrified. "Of you? Nah. If you grow claws, I might get my sword, but I've fought you in your human shape." It took all my will to shrug. "You aren't that impressive."
He cleared the distance between us in a single leap. I barely had time to jump to my feet. Steel fingers grasped my left wrist. His left arm clasped my waist. I fought, but he outmuscled me with ridiculous ease, pulling me close as if to tango.
"Curran! Let . . . "
I recognized the angle of his hip but I could do nothing about it. He pulled me forward and flipped me in a classic hip-toss throw. Textbook perfect. I flew through the air, guided by his hands, and landed on my back. The air burst from my lungs in a startled gasp. Ow.
"Impressed yet?" he asked with a big smile.
Playing. He was playing. Not a real fight. He could've slammed me down hard enough to break my neck. Instead he had held me to the end, to make sure I landed right.
He leaned forward a little. "Big bad merc, down with a basic hip toss. In your place I'd be blushing."
I gasped, trying to draw air into my lungs.
"I could kill you right now. It wouldn't take much. I think I'm actually embarrassed on your behalf. At least do some magic or something."
As you wish. I gasped and spat my new power word. "Osanda." Kneel, Your Majesty.
He grunted like a man trying to lift a crushing weight that fell on his shoulders. His face shook with strain. Ha-ha. He wasn't the only one who got a boost ~ Ilona Andrews

Barristan Semly was not a bookish man, but he had often glanced through the pages of the White Book, where the deeds of his predecessors had been recorded. Some had been heroes, some weaklings, knaves, or cravens. Most were only men - quicker and stronger than most, more skilled with sword and shield, but still prey to pride, ambition, lust, love, anger, jealousy, greed for gold, hunger for power, and all the other failing that afflicted lesser mortals. The best of them overcame their flaws, did their duty, and died with their swords in their hands. The worst ...
The worst were those who played the game of thrones. ~ George R R Martin

Her face flushed, her eyes flared and she poked him in the chest. "Ach, I had nae caution, you brastling gaupie! What about you? You recklessly left the sword out when there are children around!"

Anger crackled in every fibre of her body. He felt it. He saw it in the flash of her hair, the light of her eyes. But she was standing right in front of him and she was so very whole.

"Reckless!" He grabbed her arms and yanked her to him. "I'll show you reckless! ~ Nicole Locke

But even as they laid him low a great cry rang through the glade - "In the King's Name" and the stalwart knights of the Splendid Way burst upon them with clashing shields and flashing swords. In a breath the attackers were sent reeling back, and the prostrate knight was covered by the strong weapons of his comrades. Then it seemed that at the glory of the face of Sir Felix the evil spirits of the wood shrank back to their lair in deadly fear: and the Knight of the Clean Heart raised Sir Constant to his feet, and gave him back his fallen sword.
"Hearken, comrade," he cried mightily. "This is thy battle and the glorious end shall be thine. Strike hard and conquer! ~ W.E. Cule

I have tolerated the deceitful and the malicious for long enough. My sword shall now answer them. ~ Steven Erikson

Desandra shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, Kate? Have you thought of walking up to Hugh and telling him that he's got the biggest dick ever?" She spread her arms to the size of a baseball bat.
"No, you think it would work?" I asked.
"It's worth a try. May be he'll be so happy you noticed his pork sword, he'll forget all about trying to kill us."
Pork sword. Kill me now. "I'll think about it."
Ascanio began patting his clothes.
"What?" Derek growled.
"Looking for something to take notes with. ~ Ilona Andrews

My archive project is a multiedged sword. It is something I love doing, but it raises some questions about my motives in doing it. A writer accused me of building my archives just to further my own legend, whatever that is. I hope you don't believe that. What a shallow existence that would be! I remember reading that article saying that about me. It pissed me off. It's my life, and I am a collector. I collect everything: cars, trains, manuscripts, photographs, tape recordings, records, memories and clothes, to name a few. The fact that I want to create a chronological history of my recordings and supporting work is proof positive that I am an incurable collector, confronted with an amazingly detailed array of creations that I have painstakingly rat-holed over the years. ~ Neil Young

Would you like to hold my sword?" He asked the question with a gleam in his eyes.
Lucy burst out laughing. At least she didn't giggle again. "You did not just say that. But, um, yeah, I'd like to hold your sword, Agent Riley."
Hunter grinned and unzipped his backpack, pulling out something surprisingly small. He held it out to her, and noticed the disappointed look on her face. "Expecting something bigger?"
She smirked at his continued play on words. She had a lifetime of training in verbal and physical sparring; he was no match for her. "They say size doesn't matter, but I disagree."
Hunter, who apparently hadn't expected her response, choked on his own comeback and unsheathed the sword, then placed it in her hand. "You have to stroke it a certain way to make it bigger. ~ Kimberly Kinrade

Then I realized I just wanted you around. My days were better when they involved you. I enjoyed your thoughts. It was thrilling to see you discover magic. You had a mad hopefulness about sorcery that I have not felt in almost a decade. I started finding excuses to take you away, not because you needed my teaching but because, because I wanted to see you. I looked forward to our meetings and - like that, Vhalla - your opinion mattered to the crown prince of the Empire. You mattered for who you were, not for your magic and what some dusty texts say Windwalkers may or may not be able to do. ~ Elise Kova

Taras Bulba:
I brought you into this world and I can take you out.

Taras:
My son, why? Why?

Andrei Bulba:
I did what I had to do.

Taras:
From the day I plunged you in the river to give you life, I loved you as I loved the steppes. You were my pride! I gave you life. It is on me to take it away from you.

Taras:
Put your faith in your sword and your sword in the Pole. ~ Nikolai Gogol

Dancing and fighting weren't that different, really. So what if she looked like she'd accidentally stuck her sword in a light socket every time she hit a dance floor? She could definitely throw down some fancy footwork while wielding said sword. ~ Bethany K. Lovell

When you make a mistake with metal, you can melt things down and start afresh. It is irritating, and it costs in time and soot and sweat, but it can be done. There is a comfort in iron, knowing that a fresh start is always possible.

But a city is not a sword. It is a living thing, and living things defy simple fixing. Roots cannot be reforged. They scar, and broken branches must be cut and sealed with tar, and this makes me angry, as it always has, and my anger has no place to go.

It was easier when I was young. I could use my anger like a hammer against the world. I was so sure of myself and my friends and my rightness. I would hammer at the world, and breaking felt like making to me, and I was good at it. And while I was not wrong, neither was I entirely right.

Nothing is simple. I do not work in wood. I am not brave enough for that. There is a comfort in iron, a promise of safety, a second chance if mistakes are made. But a city is more a forest than a sword. No, it needs more tending than that. Perhaps a city is like a garden, then.

So these days, it seems I have become a gardener. I dig foundations in the earth. I sow rows of houses. I plan and plant. I watch the skies for rain and ruin. I cannot help but think that you would be better at this, but circumstance has put both of us in our own odd place. You are forced to be a hammer in the world, and my ungentle hands are learning how to tend a plot of land.

We must d ~ Patrick Rothfuss

The Chamber is only a room, though a magical one, and you will enter it when the time comes. Duke Roger is only a man, for all he wields sorcery. He can be met and defeated. But you, my daughter - learn to love. You have been given a hard road to walk. Love will ease it. Much depends on you, Alanna of Trebond. Do not fail me! - The Goddess ~ Tamora Pierce

Yes, Melanie had been there that day with a sword in her small hand, ready to do battle for her. And now, as Scarlett looked sadly back, she realized that Melanie had always been there beside her with a sword in her hand, unobtrusive as her own shadow, loving her, fighting for her with blind passionate loyalty, fighting Yankees, fire, hunger, poverty, public opinion and even her beloved blood kin. Scarlett felt her courage and self-confidence ooze from her as she realized that the sword which had flashed between her and the world was sheathed forever. ~ Margaret Mitchell

The core practice of magic is: The execution of a willed intent to create change in the material world, which either defies, hastens or purifies the consequences of natural cause and effect. ~ Zeena Schreck

Some had hurled spears first. Those spears thumped into our shields, making them unwieldy, but it hardly mattered. The leading Danes tripped on the hidden timbers and the men behind pushed the falling men forward. I kicked one in the face, feeling my iron-reinforced boot crush bone. Danes were sprawling at our feet while others tried to get past their fallen comrades to reach our line, and we were killing. Two men succeeded in reaching us, despite the smoking barricade, and one of those two feel to Wasp-Sting coming up from beneath his shield-rim. He had been swinging an ax that the man behind me caught on his shield and the Dane was still holding the war ax's shaft as I saw his eyes widen, saw the snarl of his mouth turn to agony as I saw his eyes widen, saw the snarl of his mouth turn to agony as I twisted the blade, ripping it upward, and as Cerdic, beside me, chopped his own ax down. The man with the crushed face was holding my ankle and I stabbed at him as the blood spray from Cerdic's ax blinded me. The whimpering man at my feet tried to crawl away, but Finan stabbed his sword into his thigh, then stabbed again. A Dane had hooked up his ax over the top rim of my shield and hauled it down to expose my body to a spear-thrust, but the ax rolled off the circular shield and the spear was deflected upward and I slammed Wasp-Sting forward again, felt her bite, twisted her, and Finan was keening his mad Irish song as he added his own blade to the slaughter. "Keep the shields to ~ Bernard Cornwell

Once I made weapons carved from stone, I tied the weight to a wooden handle, a club to break the bones of my enemy.

Then I became wiser...
and sharpened the stone to a point and then fastened it to a stick; my arrow. I bent wood and hitched string to it; my bow. I kill my enemy with skill

Then I became wiser...
and made weapons forged from steel and took care to sharpen the blade of my sword. I kill my enemy with a stroke.

Then I became wiser...
and made the rifle that would, by exploding gunpowder, shoot balls of lead faster than the eye could see. I kill my enemy with but the pull of a trigger.

Then I became wiser...
and I built flying machine that could transport bombs to drop over the homes of my enemy. I kill my enemy from the sky.

Then I became wiser...
and created the drone, now I can guide a plane by remote control from one country and kill my enemy in another. I am a proficient killer

Then I became wiser...
and I found a way to split the atom and found the power of God hidden within. I kill the ground, scorch the sky, pollute the wind and kill my enemy with the push of a button.

Then I became wiser...
And I found that there is nothing more foolish than a "Wise Man of War ~ Tonny K. Brown

Thank you for checking on me. You even wore your sword."

Alric looked down. "I didn't know what beast or scoundrel might be attacking the princess. I had to come prepared to do battle."

"Can you even draw that thing?"

He frowned at her again. "Oh, quit it, will you? They say I fought masterfully in the Battle of Medford."

"Masterfully?"

He struggled to stop himself from smiling. "Yes, some might even say heroically. In fact, I believe some did say heroically."

"You've watched that silly play too many times."

"It's good theater, and I like to support the arts."

"The arts." She rolled her eyes. "You just like it because it makes all the girls swoon and you love all the attention."

"Well…" He shrugged guiltily.

"Don't deny it! I've seen you with a crowd of them circling like vultures and you grinning and strutting around like the prize bull at the fair. Do you make a list? Does Julian send them to your chambers by hair color, height, or merely in alphabetical order?"

"It's not like that."

"You know, you do have to get married, and the sooner, the better. You have a lineage to protect. Kings who don't produce heirs cause civil wars. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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! ~ Stephen R. Lawhead

Now, there is a tendency at a point like this to look over one's shoulder at the cover artist and start going on at length about leather, tightboots and naked blades.
Words like 'full', 'round' and even 'pert' creep into the narrative, until the writer has to go and have a cold shower and a lie down.
Which is all rather silly, because any woman setting out to make a living by the sword isn't about to go around looking like something off the cover of the more advanced kind of lingerie catalogue for the specialized buyer.
Oh well, all right. The point that must be made is that although Herrena the Henna-Haired Harridan would look quite stunning after a good bath, a heavy-duty manicure, and the pick of the leather racks in Woo Hun Ling's Oriental Exotica and Martial Aids on Heroes Street, she was currently quite sensibly dressed in light chain mail, soft boots, and a short sword.
All right, maybe the boots were leather. But not black. ~ Terry Pratchett

Once again I have told you so little, and have asked no questions, and once again I must close. But not a single answer and, even more certainly, not a single question shall be lost. There exists some kind of sorcery by which two people, without seeing each other, without talking to each other, can at least discover the greater part about each other's past, literally in a flash, without having to tell each other all and everything; but this, after all, is almost an instrument of Black Magic (without seeming to be) which, although never without reward, one would certainly never resort to with impunity. Therefore I won't say it, unless you guess it first. It is terribly short, like all magic formulas. Farewell, and let me reinforce this greeting by lingering over your hand.
Yours, Franz K. ~ Franz Kafka

Under Zia's regime life for women in Pakistan became much more restricted. Jinnah said, "No struggle can ever succeed without women participating side by side with men. There are two powers in the world; one is the sword and the other is the pen. There is a third power stronger than both, that of women." But General Zia brought in Islamic laws which reduced a woman's evidence in court to count for only half that of a man's. Soon our prisons were full of cases like that of a thirteen-year-old girl who was raped and became pregnant and was then sent to prison for adultery because she couldn't produce four male witnesses to prove it was a crime. ~ Malala Yousafzai

I've only have time for one last lesson...
"I have you," Demandred finally growled, breathing heavily. "Who ever you are, I have you. You cannot win."
"You didn't listen to me," Lan whispered.
One last lesson. The hardest...
Demandred struck, and Lan saw his opening. Lan lunged forward, placing Demandred's sword point against his ow side and ramming himself forward onto it.
"I did not come here to win", Lan whispered, smiling, "I came here to kill you. Death is lighter that a feather."
Demandred's eyes opened wide, and he tried to pull back. Too late. Lan's sword took him straight through the throat.
The world grew dark as Lan slipped backward off the sword. He felt Nynaeve's fear and pain as he did, and he sent his love to her. ~ Robert Jordan

If he didn't frighten me, I'd be a bloody fool." Bronn gave a shrug. "Might be I could take him. Dance around him until he was so tired of hacking at me that he couldn't lift his sword. Get him off his feet somehow. When they're flat on their backs it don't matter how tall they are. Even so, it's chancy. One misstep and I'm dead. Why should I risk it? I like you well enough, ugly little whoreson that you are … but if I fight your battle, I lose either way. Either the Mountain spills my guts, or I kill him and lose Stokeworth. I sell my sword, I don't give it away. I'm not your bloody brother. ~ George R.R. Martin

-We're criminals, Farley. We believe in money-and survival. ~ Victoria Aveyard

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. ~ Kahlil Gibran

When our natural inheritance has been dissipated, then the spirit too, as Heraclitus says, has descended from its fiery heights. But when spirit becomes heavy it turns to water, and with Luciferian presumption the intellect usurps the seat where once the spirit was enthroned. The spirit may legitimately claim the patria potestas over the soul; not so the earth-born intellect, which is man's sword or hammer, and not a creator of spiritual worlds, a father of the soul. ~ C.G. Jung

Wondering how I would make it through a hand-to-hand duel, I glanced around--and just then I saw one of Galdran's equerries fall from his saddle, his banner-spear spinning through the air toward me. Instinctively my free hand reached up and I caught the spear by the shaft. Ignoring the sting in my hand, I jammed my sword into its sheath and started whirling the spear round and round, making the banner snap and stream as my prancing, sidling horse circled round my brother. Horses turned their heads and backed away; no one was able to edge up and get in a good blow at Bran, who swayed in his saddle, his bad arm hanging limp. The warriors fell back, and no one swung at me.
Dimly I became aware of an ugly, harsh voice shouting over the crash and thuds of battle. Keeping the banner whirling, I guided my horse with my knees and risked a glance back over my shoulder--and looked straight into Galdran's rage-darkened face. He said something, spittle flying from his mouth, as he pointed straight at me.
A moment later a flicker of movement on my immediate left caused me to glance round. Shevraeth was there, next to me. "Fall back," he ordered, his voice sharp.
"No. Got to protect Bran--"
There was no time for more. The Marquis was beset by furious attackers as the King shouted orders from a short distance away. Then more riders appeared from somewhere, and for a moment everything was too chaotic to follow. I found myself suddenly on the edge of the battle; there were ~ Sherwood Smith

This trip would be a lot easier if we had weapons bearers coming with us," he grumbled, toeing his waiting pile of belongings. He looked rumpled, red-eyed, and hurting, not much of a surprise after all he'd had to drink the previous night. "You'd think every lad in Delphi would jump at the chance to join us on a fabulous quest like this."
"We'll have weapons bearers when we reach our quest's start at Iolkos," Polydeuces told him. "Maybe before. We'll pass through many cities before we reach Iolkos. Jason hasn't completed his crew yet."
"I still don't see why we can't find any now," Castor persisted. "It's a fine opportunity for any boy would hopes to be a warrior someday. They can't all have kinsmen to teach them about the warrior's life and how to fight. We'd see to it that they learn how to use the sword and spear and shield they carry for us."
"You don't have shields," I pointed out.
"We'll get them in Iolkos!" Castor snapped, then winced and cradled his head tenderly in one hand. "Just as well I don't have a shield yet: If that scrawny boy'd had the sense to become my weapons bearer, the weight of it would've crushed him."
"What scrawny boy?" I asked.
"Someone with no stomach for adventure, that's all," Polydeuces said, resting one hand on my shoulder. "Not like us, eh, Helen? ~ Esther M. Friesner

You're a survivor. Voron put you on the edge of that cliff again and again until he conditioned you to claw onto life. You'll do whatever you have to do to survive, and I'm your only chance of getting out. At first you'll balk, but with every passing hour my offer will look better and better. You'll convince yourself that dying will accomplish nothing and you should at least go out with a bang. You'll tell yourself that you're accepting my offer just so you can stick that broken sword into my chest and feel it cut through my heart. Even if you die afterward, the fact that I'll stop breathing makes your death mean something. So you'll call me. And you'll try to kill me. Except you've gone three days without food, and that body . . ." He tilted his head and looked me over slowly. "That body burns through calories like fire goes through gasoline. You're running out of reserves. I can put you down with one hit."
"You're right about the sword. You broke mine. I owe you one."
He tapped his naked chest over his heart. "This is the spot. Give it a shot, Kate. Let's see what happens. ~ Ilona Andrews

The significance of each change of season is easily buried in the smallest of life's mundanities and trivialities. Yet, the true consequence of time's passage is there, blaring within the subtle disguise of a whisper for all who would listen. ~ Alpha Four

She stood on the pile of rubble, her sword held high in such a way that it gleamed in the damp morning. She looked bold and fierce - unlike the science geek who'd been his best friend for years. ~ Carrie Ryan

When I was younger, one of my favorite activities was imagining alternative-universe versions of myself. Sometimes I was a rosy-cheeked outdoorsy girl who ate flowers and hiked alone, uphill, for miles. Or I was a skydiving, drag-racing, adrenaline-fueled daredevil. Or a chain mail-wearing, sword swinging dragon slayer. It was fun to imagine those things because I already knew who I was. Now I don't know anything. I don't know who I'm supposed to be in my new world. ~ Nicola Yoon

The more you try to pin a word down, the more you realize that it has its own cape, sword and little hat. ~ Roy Blount, Jr.