In any broth, the scum always rises to the top.
If you look at any ancient civilization, they've all used fantasy stories to train the young.
I don't give a damn, laddie. Until the actual moment, when they cut me down, I shall still be looking to win. And the gods of war are fickle at best.
What is your name?" Why?" So I can mark your grave.
All men have talents. Some build, some paint, some write, some fight. For me it is different.
Some people are born ugly. It's not their fault, and I for one have never held it against a man that he is ugly. but others and I count myself among them are born with handsome features. That's a gift that should not be lightly taken away.
This world has few redeeming features, and one is the capacity for people to love one another with great, enduring passion.
By nature of definition only the coward is capable of the highest heroism
Why must I have the Piglet?' 'Because you are the best.' 'I do not understand.' 'Teach him.' 'And who teaches me?' ' As an officer, my lord, you will have many men under your command and not all will be gifted. You must learn to use each man to his best advantage.
Most wars are fought for greed, but we are luckier here we fight for our lives and the lives of the people we love.
Life is nothing unless death has been faced down.
Plan for the worst, expect the best.
It would be a fine thing if war could be conducted as a game where no lives were lost. At the end of a battle combatants could meet [...] and drink and talk.
... Life can be savored only if you look to the future and leave vengeance to the gods
This is the real magic of fantasy fiction: it can feed souls and change lives.
Kings are chosen by the Source, so it is said. [...] Therefore those who fight for the king can be said to be godly. Is that not cause enough?
Societies need heroes. So we travel to places where the revisionists cannot dismantle the great.
Yours is a race whose imagination is limited to its own small appetites. Greed, lust, envy - these are the motivating forces of humankind. What redeems you is that in every man and woman there is a seed that can grow to encompass love, joy and compassion. But this seed is never allowed to prosper in fertile ground. It struggles for life among the rocks of your human soul.
The baresark loses all fear; his method is all-out attack, and invariably he takes his opponent with him even if he falls.
Life is sad enough, Magir. Laughter is a thing to be treasured.
'Do not expect help.' 'One should always hope.' 'Then hope for a handsome savage with kindly ways.'
No one can take away the freedom of a man's soul.
But men don't come in just two groups, one of gold and the other of lead. They are a mix of both." "And what about women?" "Pure gold, my girl," Rayvan answered with a chuckle.
Why now? Why not? Live or die, a man and a woman need love. There is a need in the race. We need to share. To belong. Perhaps you will die before the year is out. But remember this: to have may be taken from you, to have had never. Far better to have tasted love before dying, than to die alone.
How many hopes and dreams are trapped within these bones? How many wonders lie never to be discovered? This is what war is. Desolation, despair and loss. There are no victors.
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