Fight Quotes

The only depth where I can breathe, and don't need to fight for air, is in your love.

It's been a harsh fight.You've been pummeled and knocked down. Your body aches, flesh torn and bruised. Your eyes can hardly see through a stream of blood. But you are cognizant and alive; therefore, you rise from the fight.This is life. It will test your will, your strength, and endurance. It will challenge your faith and convictions. It will scar your hopes and try your beliefs. In the end, life validates those who refuse to stay down.

Maybe the truth was, it shouldn't be so easy to be amazing. Then everything would be. It's the things you fight for and struggle with before earning that have the greatest worth. When something's difficult to come by, you'll do that much more to make sure it's even harder--if not impossible--to lose.

When the days become darkThe nights become coldAnd all there is, is an empty soulBelieve you can escape your plightEven when relief is out of sightDon't you dare give up the fightDon't you dare

My next fight would not be measured in rounds, but throughout a lifetime. It would sustain and fulfill me longer than anything in the cage could. My opponent, my fight, would be against the slipping aspects of American society.

Children are no longer being parented, but are raised. Thats why they don't have morals, ethics,humanity and manners, because their parents neglected them. We now live in a society that doesnt care about right or wrong.

In such a beast as this..." (he means the army)"...it was the collective power that went, collapsing like a long-exhausted animal, at once falling under its own weight as much as that of its enemy. It was a collective death and not a matter of bravery or even strength, and once it was down it was finished as a battle.

There are animals we haven't stopped by. Don't think they're harmless. Life will defend itself no matter how small it is.

Jev was certain the words “should’ve known better” would go somewhere on her tombstone, but at the moment her focus shifted to the dozens of angry pixies honed in on her.

O'Shaughnessy is hitting Denholt on the side of his head with his free arm, great, walloping, pile-driver blows. The two of them stagger together, like partners in a crazy dance. Glass is breaking all around them. Gray smoke from the six shots, pink-and-white dust from the chipped brick-and-plaster walls, swirl around them in a rainbow haze. Something vividly green flares up from one of the overturned retorts, goes right out again. O'Shaughnessy tears the emptied gun away, flings it off somewhere. More breaking glass, and this time a tart pungent smell that makes the nostrils sting. The crunch of pulverized tube glass underfoot makes it sound as if they were scuffling in sand or hard-packed snow. ("Jane Brown's Body")

Some people really need to be taught some manners," he said disdainfully. I stared up at him."Would you really have gotten in a fight for me?""Of course." He didn't hesitate."But there were four of them.""Beth, I'd take on Megatron's army to protect you.""Who?

United you will be more than a match for your enemies. But if you quarrel and separate, your weakness will put you at the mercy of those who attack you.

Self-control is a divided battle in one body. The "self" produces desires that "you" must battle with and kick off. Two wrestlers in one body. Just imagine. It's difficult, though rewarding!

I cannot believe the path to victory lies in staining our souls so black we become indistinguishable from those we fight.

Letting go is easy. Anyone can do that. Love is fighting for someone to stay. That's what takes work.

You might say “no, you will never do that, that’s not you, not who I know, not who I thought you were”, and I will say "watch me".

There is no such thing as a fair fight.

To get free from sexual sin, you have to fight.

And the seventh rule is if this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight.

My goal is not to frighten you. My goal is to make you fight your fears.

A few men’s fight for the survival is stronger than a nation’s fight for the wealth.

Let come the forces of night! We will stand!" "We will get the hell out of here is what we will do," I muttered.

Someone is always going to try to knock you down and take your place. It is up to you to fight for what you want.

It's always funny that you can try and try again to steal all your critics' ammo, predict their responses, but no matter what, they'll still have a water gun stashed somewhere.

No longer do I fear. No longer do I let others define me. I know what I am. What I'm capable of. That I'm a girl... a woman who will fight to survive.

Be quick to resolve conflicts before they mature to become wars. The energetic crocodile was once a delicate egg!

Live your life. Be happy as you can be, let go of the things that don't matter, and fight.

How can you fight stupidity effectively? The answer is simple: it’s not easy.

Help me,” the girl pleaded softly.Sam knelt beside her. He recoiled in shock. “Bette?”The left side of Bouncing Bette’s face was covered in blood. There was a gash above her temple. She was panting, gasping, like she had collapsed after a marathon and was trying with her last ounce of energy to crawl across the finish line.“Bette, what happened?”“They’re trying to get me,” Bette cried, and clutched at Sam’s arm.The three dark figures advanced to the edge of the circle of light. One was clearly Orc. No one else was that big. Edilio and Quinn moved into the garage doorway.Sam disengaged from Bette and took up a position beside Edilio.“You want me to beat on you guys, I will!” Orc yelled.“What’s going on here?” Sam demanded. He narrowed his eyes and recognized the other two boys, a kid named Karl, a seventh grader from school, and Chaz, one of the Coates eighth graders. All three were armed with aluminum bats.“This isn’t your business,” Chaz said. “We’re dealing with something here.”“Dealing with what? Orc, did you hit Bette?”“She was breaking the rules,” Orc said.“You hit a girl, man?” Edilio said, outraged.“Shut up, wetback,” Orc said.“Where’s Howard?” Sam asked, just to stall while he tried to figure out what to do. He’d lost one fight to Orc already.Orc took the question as an insult. “I don’t need Howard to handle you, Sam.”Orc marched right up to Sam, stopped a foot away, and put his bat on his shoulder like he was ready to swing for a home run. Like a batter ready for the next fastball. Only this was closer to T-ball: Sam’s head was impossible to miss.“Move, Sam,” Orc ordered.“Okay, I’m not doing this again,” Quinn said. “Let him have her, Sam.”“Ain’t no ‘let me,’” Orc said. “I do what I want.”Sam noticed movement behind Orc. There were people coming down the street, twenty or more kids. Orc noticed it too, and glanced behind him.“They aren’t going to save you,” Orc said, and swung the bat hard.Sam ducked. The bat whooshed past his head, and Orc rotated halfway around, carried forward by the momentum.Sam was thrown off balance, but Edilio was ready. He let loose a roar and plowed headfirst into Orc. Edilio was maybe half Orc’s size, but Orc was knocked off his feet. He sprawled out on the concrete.Chaz went after Edilio, trying to pull him off Orc.The crowd of kids who had come running down the street surged forward. There were angry voices and threats, all aimed at Orc.They yelled, Sam noted, but no one exactly jumped into the unequal fight.

We’re not going to give in. We’re going to fight.”“Got that right,” a voice cried out.“First thing we need to have clear: there’s no line between freak and normal here. If you have the power, we’ll need you. If you don’t, we’ll need you.”Heads were nodding. Looks were being exchanged.“Coates kids, Perdido Beach kids, we’re together now. We’re together. Maybe you did things to survive. Maybe you weren’t always brave. Maybe you gave up hope.”A girl sobbed suddenly.“Well, that’s all over now,” Sam said gently. “It all starts fresh. Right here, right now. We’re brothers and sisters now. Doesn’t matter we don’t know each other’s names, we are brothers and sisters and we’re going to survive, and we’re going to win, and we’re going to find our way to some kind of happiness again.”There was a long, deep silence.“So,” Sam said, “my name is Sam. I’m in this with you. All the way.” He turned to Astrid.“I’m Astrid, I’m in this with you, too.”“My name is Edilio. What they said. Brothers and sisters. Hermanos.”“Thuan Vong,” said a thin boy with yet-unhealed hands like dead fish. “I’m in.”“Dekka,” said a strong, solidly built girl with cornrows and a nose ring. “I’m in. And I have game.”“Me too,” called a skinny girl with reddish pigtails. “My name’s Brianna. I…well, I can go real fast.”One by one they declared their determination. The voices started out soft and gained strength. Each voice louder, firmer, more determined than the one before.Only Quinn remained silent. He hung his head, and tears rolled down his cheeks.“Quinn,” Sam called to him.Quinn didn’t respond, just looked down at the ground.“Quinn,” Sam said again. “It starts fresh right now. Nothing before counts. Nothing. Brothers, man?”Quinn struggled with the lump in his throat. But then, in a low voice, he said, “Yeah. Brothers.

Look at me. Do you see terror? Do you see fear? Or is it just your own reflection?""You're right. I see my reflection in your eyes--And it's kicking your ass!

Don't let them see how fast you really are; don't let them see the control you have, the ability you have to read them and the situation. Let them think you're out of control. Let them think you are going to be easy. Because they will be anything but, and you need to be ready for the fight of your life.

Fighting physically signifies spiritual weakness.

Marriage must fight constantly against a monster which devours everything: routine.

Why do they have windows? Is it to let a glimpse of the world in? Or for us to see out? Our own place is small perhaps, but when your old man is eaten up by his own shadow, you realize maybe that in every house, something so savage and sad and brilliant is standing up, without the world even seeing it. Maybe that's what these pages of words are about. Bringing the world to the window.

The Fightthe fight to prove yourselfto someone who doesn't deserve youis a losing battlewhat is there to achievewhen the one you wanthas nothing to give you in returnwhere is the benefitin going to war for someonewho'd rather fight against youinstead of beside you

I return my attention to the situation at hand and realize Reality—the impatient bitch—has made my decision for me. She does that a lot. You get busy planning your life, then it has the nerve to just go ahead and happen to you before you’re ready. Before you even get the chance to aim yourself right!

There will be a great imbalance in our strengths if we fight, because I am prepared to die and you are desperate to live.

My friends, we should consider ourselves fortunate, not because we are any greater or lesser because we face adversity, rather we simply rejoice in the opportunity to face it.

Far be it from me to slow down two badass supermodels on a mission, but we have a problem," a male voice said wryly.I could see Christian out of the corner of my eye as we turned, his stance and movements almost synchronized to my own. We shared a look, our expressions almost identically similar, wit arched brows and half-smiles."What's the problem?" I called out, scanning the faces to see who had spoken."You're a badass supermodel," Christian muttered under his breath at the same time, taking the mature approach, as usual.

Life is a complex matter thrown into the hands of simple people.

As a basic step of self-esteem, learn to treat as the mark of a cannibal any man’s demand for your help. To demand it is to claim that your life is his property – and loathsome as such claim might be, there’s something still more loathsome: your agreement. Do you ask if it’s ever proper to help another man? No- if he claims it as his right or as a moral duty that you owe him. Yes- if such is your own desire based on your own selfish pleasure in the value of his person and his struggle. Suffering as such is not a value, only man’s fight against suffering is. If you choose to help a man who suffers, do it only on the ground of his virtues, of his fight to recover, of his rational record, or of the fact that he suffers unjustly; then your action is still trade, and his virtue is the payment for your help. But to help a man who has no virtues, to help him on the ground of his suffering as such, to accept his faults, his need, as a claim – is to accept the mortgage of a zero on your values. A man who has no virtues is a hater of existence who acts on the premise of death; to help him is to sanction his evil and to support his career of destruction. Be it only a penny you will miss or a kindly smile he has not earned, a tribute to a zero is treason to life and to all those who struggle to maintain it. It is of such pennies and smiles that the desolation of your world was made.

A person's true character lies somewhere until after you might have pressed the wrong button without knowing, then you'll realize that there are dogs in human form.

Always walk away from a fight. Then ambush.

Life is what you make it and legacy is what you leave it. Stop trying to be perfect, stop waiting for perfection to find you, and start making your environment a product of you instead of the other way around.

Pitiful and pitied by no one, why have I come to the ignominy of this detestable old age, who was ruler of two kingdoms, mother of two kings? My guts are torn from me, my family is carried off and removed from me. The young king [crown prince Henry, †1183] and the count of Britanny [prince Geoffrey, †1186] sleep in dust, and their most unhappy mother is compelled to be irremediably tormented by the memory of the dead. Two sons remain to my solace, who today survive to punish me, miserable and condemned. King Richard [the Lionheart] is held in chains [in captivity with Emperor Henry VI of Germany]. His brother, John, depletes his kingdom with iron [the sword] and lays it waste with fire. In all things the Lord has turned cruel to me and attacked me with the harshness of his hand. Truly his wrath battles against me: my sons fight amongst themselves, if it is a fight where where one is restrained in chains, the other, adding sorrow to sorrow, undertakes to usurp the kingdom of the exile by cruel tyranny. Good Jesus, who will grant that you protect me in hell and hide me until your fury passes, until the arrows which are in me cease, by which my whole spirit is sucked

In a fight, If you don't take challenges someone does.

She shrieks above the din. "If you wish a battle, I shall give it. I am the last of my kind. I shall not lie down without a fight.

It is not the dead rather the ones who lives through war have seen the dreadful end of the war, you might have been victorious, unwounded but deep within you, you carry the mark of the war, you carry the memories of war, the time you have spend with your comrades, the times when you had to dug in to foxholes to avoid shelling, the times when you hate to see your comrade down on the ground, feeling of despair, atrocities of the war, missing families, home. They live through hell and often the most wounded, they live with the guilt, despair, of being in the war, they may be happy but deep down they are a different person. Not everyone is a hero. You live with the moments, time when you were unsuccessful, when your actions would have helped your comrades, when your actions get your comrades killed, you live with regret, joyous in the victory can never help you forget the time you have spent. You are victorious for the people you have lost, the decisions you have made, the courage you have shown but being victorious in the war has a price to pay, irrevocable. You can't take a memory back from a person, even if you lose your memory your imagination haunts you as deep down your sub conscious mind you know who you are, who you were. Close you eyes and you can very well see your past, you cant change your past, time you have spent, you live through all and hence you are a hero not for the glorious war for the times you have faced. Decoration with medals is not going to give your life back. the more you know, more experiences doesn't make it easy rather make its worse. Arms and ammunition kills you once and free you from the misery but the experiences of war kills you everyday, makes you cherish the times everyday through the life. You may forgot that you cant walk anymore, you may forget you cant use your right hand, you may forgot the scars on your face but you can never forgot war. Life without war is never easy and only the ones how survived through it can understand. Soldiers are taught to fight but the actual combat starts after war which you are not even trained for. You rely on your weapon, leaders, comrades, god, luck in the war but here you rely on your self to beat the horrors,they have seen hell, heaven, they have felt the mixed emotions of hope, despair, courage, victory, defeat, scared.

He slammed the door shut in Ian's face, the lock clicking into place. Ian hit it again with his fist before roaring, “If I were a pervert, I'd be looking for something a damn bit more attractive than you, jackass. And definitely someone that smelled alive.

Wrong. Enemies don't fight with such determined passion. That kind of focus is reserved for friends at odds with one another."pg 69 Tomas to Vlad

I have faith in us as a family, and our friends. I think we will survive because we don’t wish to harm anyone. If you ever need something to believe in, believe that to stand and fight for the people you love is the most honorable thing you can do with your life.

Choas errupted amoung the watchers. They didn't think it was over at all. "He cheated! He used fire!""No, he won fairly enough!"

He roars, “What have you done?”I don’t answer. My heart beats crazy happy just to see her get across the iron. She’s not burned. She’s still human.“Zara.” His voice is measured. “I need her to maintain control.”“You don’t need to be in control. You’re all trapped. So there’ll be no more stealing boys, no more shooting arrows in the woods, getting people lost. It’s all over.” The metal is cold on my fingers.Devyn grabs more wire, starts another flight. A group of pixies leaps for him, screaming, a wild, chaotic mess. They start clawing at each other, lost in fear and hunger, angry. A pixie in a pink dress shrieks when another wearing a black gown lashes at her, slashing through the skin on her arm.“Zara?” The king tries to be calm and nice. He tries to look human. It doesn’t work. “Do you know what this means? Do you know the power that I’ll lose? The need? We will fight in here. We will kill each other.”“I know,” I say and my voice shakes as I stare at him, this man who is in my blood, but not me. He is not me. Still, I understand his need, his fear. He is stuck in this awful place where there is no moral way to move forward. “I’m so sorry.”And I am.

I found an inner strength to fight for myself. It was clear that nobody else would.

Face me and learn that I’m not alone, attack and you’ll find that my Leader stands beside me. I will bleed and I may die, but this warrior will not be shaken!” -Regan

The longer you fight, the stronger you become.

Dear World,I exist.Deal with it.

In the end… he would choose Campisi.In the end… she would choose Abandonato.In the end… there would be bloodshed.

A man convinced against his will, stands opposed ever still. A man convinced he is right, gives the effort twice the fight.