Let the enemy fall by their swords. Words not worth reading die their own death. But our Words will be Told!
A man might as well hope to fight a swarm of flies with a sword as to master his own thoughts when they are set on by the devil.
The answer to enemies who heal annoyingly fast is always, always decapitation. That is why swords will never go out of style.
However, what he wanted was impossible: the serenity of the Gods cannot be achieved by the sword.
Like a falling star, he descended on the Tarbh Cró, a Cassiline berserker, his sword biting and slashing like a silver snake.
The man is an asshole." "You might say that, but you'd be maligning a part of the body that is of unquestioned utility. I prefer to think of Lugala as a tumor.
If you can cut the head off of this broom-goober with that sword, then I'll believe you can gank zombies with it.
He did his thing, and I did mine. Mine involved standing there with a sword in a bin liner waiting for something to try and kill us. Nothing did.
There could be nothing, he reflected, to equal a government which was simply the honest enforcement, by means of the sword, of the laws of Islam.
And the One will take the Sword of the Western Sun and triumph over the enemy with boldness and insight. The arm of the One is steady and heads will roll. Snow Giants will battle
Don't ever 'influence' me against my will again, MacLachlan,. Or I will load your balls into my Cuisinart and press 'chop.
If you die before you say her name, ser, I will hunt you through all seven hells." --Prince Oberyn of Dorne.
Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next.
Perhaps you should speak more softly to me, then. Monsters are dangerous beasts, and just now kings seem to be dying like flies.
We do not choose our destinies. Yet we must… we must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty.
I crossed a thousand leagues to come to you, and lost the best part of me along the way. Don't tell me to leave.
Your brother was a terrible traitor, I know, but if we start killing men at weddings they’ll be even more frightened of marriage than they are presently.
Getting eaten by a giant crocodile was bad enough. The kid with the glowing sword only made my day worse.
Why won't they let me be? I just need to rest, that's all, to rest and sleep some, and maybe die a little.
You're going to keep making these mistakes as long as you keep carrying your brain in the same scabbard with your sword, Lelldorin.
Blankets could be used to make perimeter walls, to keep out an invading army wielding pillows instead of swords.
