Fight Quotes - Page 11

A warrior fears the battle he missed. More than any fight he can make his own, he fears the fight that’s gone, that ended without him, that no feat of arms can change.

We may fight for the cause of international peace because we are very fond of fighting.

Fear could break a line faster than any enemy charge.

you might want to decide fast. We live in a dangerous world. If you see a chance to be happy, you have to fight for it, so later you have no regrets.

We’ll fight them. We took down my dad. We’ve taken down so many since then. We’ll take down these jokesters too.”“I will never let anything happen to you,” Nick growls into my hair. “I will die before you get hurt again. So help me God, Zara. I will die."“Me too.”“What?”“I will die before I let anyone hurt you or Issie or Dev or Gram or . . .” I stop and pull my head away from his chest so I can look up at him. “This list is getting kind of long and melodramatic, isn’t it?”He laughs. His hand moves slowly up my spine. He starts leaning down for a kiss. “Yeah. It is.

Fighting with your fate is equal to fight with God.

Oh, the child you threatened once, the young shoot you stepped on, the Tamil you teased, is standing with a gun in front of you. His presence is taking you by surprise. How can you understand that it is the occupier who creates a poorali? You once dealt the blow. Now you are imprisoned. When a fox tries to eat the goat, the goat must turn into a tiger and leap. That is the edict of the times.

If we fought wars with laughter instead of bullets, you would die laughing instead of just dying.

There are tomorrows on their way worth the struggles of today. Never give up.

We’re a couple of shooting stars, Biggs, and we’ll never be stopped.

When we stand up for what we believe in—for what’s right—there is always a chance that we risk the very things we fight for: our safety, our lives, our freedom. But if we stand down, the risk is definite.

Man is by instinct a lover, a hunter, a fighter.

We can not be swallowed up like those little pebbles. We aren't pebbles. We won't just quietly sink to the bottom. We can run, we can fight, and we can work. We are not helpless unless we let ourselves be.

The most powerful tools of revolution through intention are humility and consciousness.

Opportunity never arrives, it only walks by. Chance never comes, it only knocks at the door. Never think the success will jump into your palms; you must work for it!

If you have to choose between the two hopeless situations, choose the one which gives you at least an opportunity to fight!

It's a dirty way to fight, but I'm late for lunch."- Valek to Yelena

Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me and will fight with me.

Learn like an amateur. Train like a champion. Fight like a warrior. Triumph like a conqueror.

From birth to death and further onAs we were born and introduced into this world,We had a gift hard to express by wordAnd somewhere in our continuous road,It kind of lost it sense and turned.There was that time we sure remember,When everything was now and 'till foreverChildren with no worries and no regrets,The only goal was making a few friends.But later on everything has changed,By minds that had it all arrangedTo bring the people into stress,Into creating their own mess.We have been slaved by our own mind,Turned into something out of our kindSlowly faded away from the present time,Forced to believe in lies, in fights and crime.They made it clearly a fight of the ego,A never ending war that won't just goThey made it a competitive game,To seek selfish materialistic fame.They turned us one against eachother,Man against man, brother against brotherDividing us by religion and skin color,Making us fight to death over a dollar.Making us lose ourselves in sadly thoughts,Wasting our days by living in the pastDepressed and haunted by the memories,And yet still hoping to fly in our dreams.Some of us tried learning how to dance,Step after step, giving our soul a new chanceSome of us left our ego vanish into sounds,Thus being aware of our natural bounce.Some tried expressing in their rhymes,The voice of a generation which never diesThey reached eternity through poetryLeaving the teachings that shall fulfill the prophecyOthers have found their way through spirituality,Becoming conscious of the human dualitySeeking the spiritual enlightenment,Of escaping an ego-oriented fightingScience, philosophy, religion,Try to explain the human origin.Maybe changes are yet to come,And it shall be better for someDeath's for the spirit not an end,But a relieving of the embodimentSo I believe that furthermore,We'll understand the power of our soulBut leaving behind all we know,And all that we might not yet knowIt all resumes to that certain truth,That we all seek to once conclude.

There is nothing in the world so much admired as a man who knows how to bear unhappiness with courage."— Seneca

Only smart warrior decides which battle to fight first, and when.

Hamlet promised himself he’d throw down afterward, but I think perhaps when he said, “From this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!” the limits of blank verse weakened his resolve somehow. If he’d been free to follow the dictates of his conscience rather than the pen of Shakespeare, perhaps he would have abandoned verse altogether, like me, and contented himself with this instead: “Bring it, muthafuckas. Bring it.

Feet got sore, body was tired,long day, march down Manhattan.I felt a fire lit within me.Hopefully this fire will touchall of us, will be a long fight.-Climate Change March 2014

Mood’s a thing for cattle or for making love. You fight when the necessity arises, no matter your mood.

When people support you when you have done something wrong. It doesnt mean you are right, but it means those people are promoting their hate , bad behavior or living their bad lives through you.

If he needed an answer about how much he'd changed, that provided it. He didn't want Fatima Hynes or any other nameless female with vacant eyes and an ample bosom. He didn't want anyone else, ever. He wanted Evelyn Marie Ruddick—and he'd be damned if he was going to let Neckcloth Alvington have her without a fight. And if there was one thing he knew how to do better than anyone else in London, it was how to fight dirty

Life makes us suffer at times if we cruise through such moments and look forward to the light the day brings, that darkness that has crippled our mind can be fought and it can be defeated.

Day had fucked up big time. This was all his fault, all because he couldn’t keep his nosy ass out of other peoples private business. Day rushed to God’s side.“I’ll help you ba—” Day didn’t know how, but God had found enough strength after that beating to push him so hard that he flew into the dresser, knocking it and all of the items that were on top of it to the floor, including the television. Day rolled a few feet, the dresser just missing falling on top of him.“Cash, what the fuck!” Day cursed.He rolled to his side and winced at the sharp pain in his ribs from coming into contact with the dresser.“I was trying to help you get into bed.”“Get the fuck out, Leo.” God’s face was an unyielding mask. For the first time in four long years, Day couldn’t read what the hell was going through God’s mind.Day stood slowly. “God, I only called him because I needed to go—”“It doesn’t matter why you did it! You had no right! You have no clue what you just did!” God yelled. “Now get out!”“Cashel, please. Just hear me out,” Day pleaded. His eyes begged for God to see the sincerity in them. He really didn’t mean for any of this to happen. “Baby, I swear. I didn’t know any of this was happening between you and your family. You should’ve told me. Why was he calling you a murderer?”No matter what, Day couldn’t turn off his detective side.Day watched God squeeze his eyes shut. He went down on one knee and clutched his chest when the hard coughing started again. God’s eyes were full of water and pain. Day timidly eased over to God’s side but God cut his eyes at him, daring him to come any closer.Day had to fight the moisture in his own eyes. “I just want to help you into bed.”“Day, if you don’t get the fuck out of my house, I’m going to show you why he called me a murderer,” God said through clenched teeth.Day couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his lips, or the pain that radiated through his chest, as if his rib cage had been torn open and his heart ripped out and thrown underneath the bed. Day kept his eyes on God as he knelt to pick up the dresser, then the television. God watched him as well. Day didn’t say anything as the rogue tear fell down his face without his permission. Day went around to the opposite side of the bed and pulled a pen and piece of scrap paper from the drawer, still watching God carefully. He really didn’t like the look on his best friend’s face. He’d seen the look before, but he’d never had it leveled on him. Day scribbled a couple of phone numbers on the paper.

How could I forget the man who can break uncountable bones just in a few seconds.

There would be no obstacles to overcome. We won’t fight for joy in heaven. But we are not there yet.

I don’t know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at you.To dodge your skin in the hallwayand leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat.It takes much too effort to stare at the sinkso my eyes don’t smile at you in the mirror.It takes much too effort to look away as we undressand lie apart in the now bigger bed.It takes much too effort to stiffen my bodybecause sleepy limbs forget fightsand pride is always lost in dreams.It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us.I dread the light peeking through the parted curtainsand empathise with your groans —I didn’t get any sleep either.I really don’t know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at one anotherwhen it’s so easy for us to love.

marriage is an arrangement between like-minded parties. It’s a partnership, not a love affair. I never lied to you or kept anything of importance from you.”She looked at him then, almost stunned, as if she didn’t recognize him. He didn’t like it. Not at all.

Don't show a friend your gift, or your bag of money if you still want to maintain your relationship, but if nay, go on, and all you'll see is hate and jealousy, and you'll fight with him in the street like a dog and all you'll feel is regret.

When your mother and your father are having a fight, do you want them to kill each other? Or do you just want them tostop fighting?

Looks like things are good,” Day said casually. “I’m happy for you.”“Things were better than good, baby. My mom was so happy to see me. She made me raisin bread, and she even popped me in the head a few times when I told her I’d pissed you off. She wants to meet you real soon, sweetheart,” God said breathlessly around all his excitement.“I’m looking forward to it,” Day said climbing in bed.“Oh come on, Leo, you can’t still be mad at me.” God huffed. When Day still didn’t speak, God threw his hands up in the air. “Okay, fine. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m sorry all right. There. Does that make you happy now, or do I have to go out and by you some fuckin’ flowers and candy and shit? Stop acting like this. I had a good day, babe, and I want to fuck you.” God dropped his voice low.“I have a headache and don’t feel like having sex…since you’re dating a bitch. Good night, Cashel.” Day flicked the switch on the small lamp by his side of the bed putting them in total darkness. Day pulled the covers up on him and turned his back to God and willed himself to go to sleep.Day woke up before five a.m. and was pissed when he couldn’t go back to sleep. Although his back was to him, he could tell God was awake too by the way he was breathing. Day finally got sick of lying there and got out of bed. He slid his feet in his leather slippers and went downstairs. Day got the paper off the front step and went to the kitchen for coffee. He was in the den watching Food Network, sipping his second cup when he had an urge to go back upstairs and climb back in bed with God.This was bullshit. This was a stupid fight they were having and he wanted it over. Day was sure there would be real shit for them to fight about in the future, they didn’t need to waste time on crap like this. But still…Day didn’t move.

That's just stupid, Tory! Quit being so damn stubborn!”“Not a chance! You've got some kind of death wish! We can't even trust our power lately. They're too erratic for a public heist.”Ben thumped the steering wheel in frustration. “Maybe for you.”I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.“Why don't we all use our friendly words?” Hi suggested. “Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton, you're super at——”“Shut up, Hi!” Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

There is only one way to fight, and that's dirty. Clean gentlemanly fighting will get you nowhere but dead, and fast. Take every cheap shot, every low blow, absolutely kick people when they're down, and maybe you'll be the one who walks away.

It was the first and only fight of his childhood, but it had taught him a valuable lesson about human nature, how people were just another species of animal, and like any animal, from the biggest predators, to the smallest scavengers, most human beings could only be pushed so far before they lashed out.

To deny the battle is unwise. To believe that I can fight it without God is insane. To actually do so is suicidal. No wonder so many of us walk around looking like death warmed over.

If the enemy looks just like you, how do you fight him?

Things that other people do, or that happen to people you love, are some of the things you can't fight.

...there’s no such thing as a dirty fight.

Freedom is an expensive gift always worth fighting for. Even if it costs us!

it's like being attacked by a RAT!

The color of defeat chokes her pupils, even though her nod and smile and uncomfortable sitting motion on the couch indicate that she is not finished yet. She will carry on, like all of us. Smile stubborn. Smile with instinct, then lick your wounds in the darkest of corners. Trace the scars back to your own fingers and remember them.

You don't fight the battles you know you will win, its the ones that everyone says you will lose.

The educated ones leave, the ones with the potential to right the wrongs. They leave the weak behind. The tyrants continue to reign because the weak cannot resist. Do you not see that it is a cycle? Who will break that cycle?

It takes some strength to fight. It takes greater strength to choose not to fight.

Losers doesn't require a miracle to Win.They just keep on fighting.

I must fight with my weapons. Not his. Not selfishness and brutality and shame and resentment.

Ever notice the word 'rough' in through? There is truth to that, though the way may be rough, we are still able to get through it.

I dont celebrate any friendship that was build on hate, because we share the common enemy.

Fight for whatever is yours even though it means you'll suffer, if you really want it, you'll do whatever it takes to be yours again.

Are the Trials starting?” The girl claps her hands over her mouth. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I—”“It's all right.” I don't smile at her. It will only scare her. For a female slave, a smile from a Mask is not usually a good thing. “I'm actually wondering the same thing. What's your name?”“S-slave-Girl.” Of course. My mother would already have scourged her name out of existence.“Right. You work for the Commandant?” I want her to say no. I want her to say that my mother roped her into this. I want her to say she's assigned to the kitchens or infirmary, where slaves aren't scarred or missing body p

When we go out knowing whose interests we are representing, people cannot oppose us because it is pointless to fight God, who lives in us

For Hanalea the Warrior!

Si l'on n'est plus que mille, eh bien, j'en suis ! Si mêmeIls ne sont plus que cent, je brave encor Sylla ;S'il en demeure dix, je serai le dixième ;Et s'il n'en reste qu'un, je serai celui-là !(If we're just a thousand, then, here I am! Even ifThey're just a hundred, still I face Sylla;If ten still stand, I'll be the tenth;And if there is only one left, I'll be this one!)

No matter how good you are at planning, the pressure never goes away. So I don't fight it. I feed off it. I turn pressure into motivation to do my best.

Christ girl, Ι wasn't even going to bite you. Well, not the way you're thinking." "I'm flattered you want to fuck me as well as muder me. Really, Liam, that's sweet." He grinned. "Valentine's Day was just last month, after all.