All Obi Wan Quotes

The man he faced was everything Obi-Wan had devoted his life to destroying: Murderer. Traitor. Fallen Jedi. Lord of the Sith. NAd here, and now, despite it all... Obi-Wan still loved him

Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin’s arm. “There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man.” Anakin turned, and found within Obi-Wan’s eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him then felt like a promise from the Force itself. “I… I wouldn’t have it any other way, Master.” “I believe,” his onetime Master said with a gently humorous look of astonishment at the words coming out of his mouth, “that you should get used to calling me Obi-Wan.

All life is sacred. Even life that comes in forms that we don't understand." - Obi-Wan Kenobi

The room fell silent. I frankly didn't know what I was going to do to help Eduardo, but I had the sense that he was right- no one else could help him, and without help, all that he'd done would crumble. Plus, I like being called his only hope. I felt like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Impressive, most impressive, worthy lad, Thine Obi-Wan hath taught thee well, and thou Hast master'd all thy fears. Now, go! Release Thine anger, for thy hate alone can strike Me down!

...you must understand that not even the Jedi know all there is to be known about the Force; no mortal mind can. We speak of the will of the Force as someone ignorant of gravity might say it is the will of a river to flow to the ocean; it is a metaphor that describes our ignorance. The simple truth - if any truth is ever simple - is that we do not truly know what the will of the Force may be. We can never know. It is so far beyond our limited understanding that we can only surrender to its mystery.

On the first day of November last year, sacred to many religious calendars but especially the Celtic, I went for a walk among bare oaks and birch. Nothing much was going on. Scarlet sumac had passed and the bees were dead. The pond had slicked overnight into that shiny and deceptive glaze of delusion, first ice. It made me remember sakes and conjure a vision of myself skimming backward on one foot, the other extended; the arms become wings. Minnesota girls know that this is not a difficult maneuver if one's limber and practices even a little after school before the boys claim the rink for hockey. I think I can still do it - one thinks many foolish things when November's bright sun skips over the entrancing first freeze. A flock of sparrows reels through the air looking more like a flying net than seventy conscious birds, a black veil thrown on the wind. When one sparrow dodges, the whole net swerves, dips: one mind. Am I part of anything like that? Maybe not. The last few years of my life have been characterized by stripping away, one by one, loves and communities that sustain the soul. A young colleague, new to my English department, recently asked me who I hang around with at school. "Nobody," I had to say, feeling briefly ashamed. This solitude is one of the surprises of middle age, especially if one's youth has been rich in love and friendship and children. If you do your job right, children leave home; few communities can stand an individual's most pitiful, amateur truth telling. So the soul must stand in her own meager feathers and learn to fly - or simply take hopeful jumps into the wind. In the Christian calendar, November 1 is the Feast of All Saints, a day honoring not only those who are known and recognized as enlightened souls, but more especially the unknowns, saints who walk beside us unrecognized down the millennia. In Buddhism, we honor the bodhisattvas - saints - who refuse enlightenment and return willingly to the wheel of karma to help other beings. Similarly, in Judaism, anonymous holy men pray the world from its well-merited destruction. We never know who is walking beside us, who is our spiritual teacher. That one - who annoys you so - pretends for a day that he's the one, your personal Obi Wan Kenobi. The first of November is a splendid, subversive holiday. Imagine a hectic procession of revelers - the half-mad bag lady; a mumbling, scarred janitor whose ravaged face made the children turn away; the austere, unsmiling mother superior who seemed with great focus and clarity to do harm; a haunted music teacher, survivor of Auschwitz. I bring them before my mind's eye, these old firends of my soul, awakening to dance their day. Crazy saints; but who knows what was home in the heart? This is the feast of those who tried to take the path, so clumsily that no one knew or notice, the feast, indeed, of most of us. It's an ugly woods, I was saying to myself, padding along a trail where other walkers had broken ground before me. And then I found an extraordinary bouquet. Someone had bound an offering of dry seed pods, yew, lyme grass, red berries, and brown fern and laid it on the path: "nothing special," as Buddhists say, meaning "everything." Gathered to formality, each dry stalk proclaimed a slant, an attitude, infinite shades of neutral. All contemplative acts, silences, poems, honor the world this way. Brought together by the eye of love, a milkweed pod, a twig, allow us to see how things have been all along. A feast of being.

OBI-WAN Forsooth, a great disturbance in the Force Have I just felt. ’Twas like a million mouths Cried out in fear at once, and then were gone, All hush’d and quiet—silent to the last. I fear a stroke of evil hath occurr’d. But thou, good Luke, thy practice recommence.

You’ve been off fighting the war in the Outer Rim. You don’t know what it’s been like, dealing with all the petty squabbles and special interests and greedy, grasping fools in the Senate, and Palpatine’s constant, cynical, ruthless maneuvering for power—he carves away chunks of our freedom and bandages the wounds with tiny scraps of security. And for what? Look at this planet, Obi-Wan! We have given up so much freedom—how secure do we look?

But here’s my little trade secret that I put into every All Is Lost moment just for added spice, and it’s something that many hit movies have. I call it the whiff of death. I started to notice how many great movies use the All Is Lost point to kill someone. Obi Wan in Star Wars is the best example — what will Luke do now?? All Is Lost is the place where mentors go to die, presumably so their students can discover “they had it in them all along.” The mentor’s death clears the way to prove that. But what if you don’t have an Obi Wan character? What if death isn’t anywhere near your story? Doesn’t matter. At the All Is Lost moment, stick in something, anything that involves a death. It works every time. Whether it’s integral to the story or just something symbolic, hint at something dead here. It could be anything. A flower in a flower pot. A goldfish. News that a beloved aunt has passed away. It’s all the same.

The force is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars

Into the night I go… sent there by the winds of death and all who feed its currents.

The Jedi Order that provided the entire framework for Obi-Wan’s life was consumed by betrayal and slaughter. Every step of this long, unfulfilling journey is one Obi-Wan had to take alone… and yet he never faltered. As the rest of the galaxy burned, his path remained true. It is the kind of victory that most people never recognize and yet the bedrock all goodness is built upon.

Ruby understood. She wouldn't have a week ago, but now she did. You won't break. She halted, thinking. It was important that she phrase it well, that she pass on something of what she'd learned about this family of theirs. You think you have to hold it all in, and if you let any of it go, you'll shatter into tiny pieces and you won't know who you are. But it doesn't work that way. It's more like ... opening your eyes in a room you'd expected to be dark. You can see things, and it makes you feel stronger. She laughed. God I sound like Obi-wan on heroin. Jeez Rube, Caroline said, sniffling a little. My little sister has finally grown up.

Troy’s girlfriend, Sandra, brought them all pizza that night, and when she got there she joined the dramatic re-enactment. She said they had to rewind so she could elaborate for Elena on how dashing Obi-Wan was. “Ewan McGregor,” she groaned. “I made Troy grow a beard after the second movie.” “I also grew a Padawan braid,” Troy said.

Qui-Gon’s eyes flicked to Obi-Wan’s. “Ah, yes,” he said. Returning his gaze to the hovering lightsaber, he recited, “The crystal is the heart of the blade. The heart is the crystal of the Jedi. The Jedi is the crystal of the Force. The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined: the crystal, the blade, the Jedi. You…are one.

Thank you, for creating this vast and flexible playground. Thank you for creating one of the twentieth century's most popular myths, a gift that has brought billions of happy viewing hours at a critical time in world history, a time when perhaps, we need more than ever to blieve in honor, sacrifice, heart, and that special magic called life itself. As long as I live I will never forget The Moment when Luke Skywalker flew so desperately into the Death Star's trench, John William's score soaring magnificently, and the audience overwhelmed by Industrial Light and Magic's mind-bending inaugural. At that pulse-pounding moment, a moment when it seemed the individual human being could have no point or purpose, no meaning in a universe so vast and cybernetic, we heard Obi-Wan Kenobi whisper that we should trust our feelings. The Force flows through us. It controls us. We control it. Life creates it. It is more powerful than any Death Star. Hundreds of millions of people said yes, and sighed, and applauded, and went home or turned off their videos feeling just a little more empowered than they did before the lights went down and the Twentieth Century-Fox fanfare came up. No small feat. May the Force be with you, Mr. Lucas. And with us all. Always".

Perhaps this is madness, or at least hubris. To believe that the Force is at work in all this. That it would be at work in me.” “The Force is in all things, Master.” That much, Obi-Wan felt sure of. “I can’t tell whether it has anything to do with your dream—yet it is present, guiding us, if we listen.” “Very true. But whom, or what, do I listen to? Can it possibly be that I should listen to my dream?” Obi-Wan summoned his courage. “Right now, your dream agrees with your conscious mind. So I don’t really see the conflict.

Give the Audience Something to Cheer For Austin Madison is an animator and story artist for such Pixar movies as Ratatouille, WALL-E, Toy Story 3, Brave, and others. In a revealing presentation Madison outlined the 7-step process that all Pixar movies follow. 1. Once there was a ___. 3 [A protagonist/ hero with a goal is the most important element of a story.] 2. Every day he ___. [The hero’s world must be in balance in the first act.] 3. Until one day ___. [A compelling story introduces conflict. The hero’s goal faces a challenge.] 4. Because of that ___. [This step is critical and separates a blockbuster from an average story. A compelling story isn’t made up of random scenes that are loosely tied together. Each scene has one nugget of information that compels the next scene.] 5. Because of that ___. 6. Until finally ____. [The climax reveals the triumph of good over evil.] 7. Ever since then ___. [The moral of the story.] The steps are meant to immerse an audience into a hero’s journey and give the audience someone to cheer for. This process is used in all forms of storytelling: journalism, screenplays, books, presentations, speeches. Madison uses a classic hero/ villain movie to show how the process plays out—Star Wars. Here’s the story of Luke Skywalker. Once there was a farm boy who wanted to be a pilot. Every day he helped on the farm. Until one day his family is killed. Because of that he joins legendary Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi. Because of that he hires the smuggler Han Solo to take him to Alderaan. Until finally Luke reaches his goal and becomes a starfighter pilot and saves the day. Ever since then Luke’s been on the path to be a Jedi knight. Like millions of others, I was impressed with Malala’s Nobel Peace prize–winning acceptance speech. While I appreciated the beauty and power of her words, it wasn’t until I did the research for this book that I fully understood why Malala’s words inspired me. Malala’s speech perfectly follows Pixar’s 7-step storytelling process. I doubt that she did this intentionally, but it demonstrates once again the theme in this book—there’s a difference between a story, a good story, and a story that sparks movements.

...the suffering of one man is the suffering of all. ~ Obi Wan Kenobi

Think of this person as the Obi-Wan Kenobi who always seems to produce the right answer when the occasion calls for it, but otherwise remains quite reserved. On the flip side, INFJ could be the one leading new projects in Research and Development, imagining fantastic new products and services but sometimes failing to see real world obstacles which prevent the idea from becoming viable. Office INFJ aims to make the world a better place in all cases

Fortunately, Obi-Wan had dealt with worse. He did, after all, see Anakin through some very turbulent teenage years.

All this had happened since Ben's arrival from... where? She still didn't know. Unbelievable.

Luke Skywalker, hero of the Battle of Yavin, has cast his lot with the rebels, lending his formidable piloting skills to whatever missions his leaders assign him. But he is haunted by his all-too-brief lessons with Obi-Wan Kenobi and the growing certainty that mastery of the Force will be his path to victory over the Empire.

Although Palpatine had always presented himself as a cautious, unassuming politician, he made it known to all that he would do whatever was necessary to preserve the Republic. Despite his modest protests, the Senate demanded that he stay in office long after his term had expired. But as the Clone Wars escalated, even his most trusted advisors were surprised by his many amendments to the Republic Constitution, which extended his own political powers while limiting the freedom of others.

As days turned into weeks and months became years, Anakin made the best of his time, learning all that he could about technology and interstellar travel. He studied the aliens who passed through Mos Espa and got to know the local merchants on a first-name basis. While sitting in junked starship cockpits, he learned to recognize the controls for thrusters, stabilizers, and repulsors. From watching other mechanics and pit droids, he became proficient at repairing Podracers at Watto’s shop.

Now, so many years later, Vader reflected on all the Jedi he killed that day. Remembering the stunned expressions of Mace Windu as he fell from Palpatine’s office window and the screams of the Jedi younglings and their teachers, he felt no remorse. Just as he believed he had done his best to be a dutiful Jedi, he believed his actions as Palpatine’s apprentice were even more righteous.

But for all of Anakin’s confidence in his powers, all his accomplishments and victories, and all the lessons learned in the decade that followed the Battle of Naboo, nothing prepared him, at age twenty, for his reunion with Padmé Amidala.

Despite all the terrible, unspeakable things he’d done in his life, he knew he could not stand by and allow the Emperor to kill Luke. And in that moment of awareness, he was Darth Vader no more. He was Anakin Skywalker.

Vader stepped to a viewport and gazed down at the sand planet. It looked just as barren as he remembered it. To think that I lived there once…that it was my home before the Jedi came and took me away. My mother breathed her last on this world, and for years I felt such…agonizing loss. Now I feel nothing. This world means as much to me as a speck of dust, and all its inhabitants might as well be dust too.

And then his gaze landed on the area of the unmarked graves that included his grandmother’s final resting place. He thought of the broken skeletons he’d seen at the abandoned Tusken camp. He suddenly found himself wondering which graveyard was more miserable. The one where the butchered remains of the dead had been left exposed for all to see? Or the one where the buried were already all but forgotten? Luke couldn’t decide. Both were terribly unfortunate fates.

In some senses. But prophecies are also about the present. The ancient Jedi mystics were attempting to look into the future, but they were rooted in their own time - as we all are." Qui-Gon settled back into his chair and motioned for Obi-Wan to sit as well. "They could predict the future through the prism of their own experience. So by studyinh their words, their warnings, we learn more about their ways than any history holo could ever teach us. /and by asking ourselves how we interpret these prophecies, we discover our own fears, hopes, and limitations.

Although the Jedi Order had deliberately banished Ilum from all standard star charts for many centuries, almost every Jedi trainee dreamed of visiting the sacred, secret planet in the Unknown Regions. That was because many generations of Jedi had gathered crystals from Ilum to energize their lightsabers, and some Jedi maintained that Ilum crystals were the finest in the galaxy.

Luke was disappointed that the entry ended there. While he set the book aside and checked on the furnace again, he wondered why Ben hadn’t written more about the Clone Wars. It never occurred to him that Ben might have sometimes wished he couldn’t remember the Clone Wars at all.

As the phantom pain chewed at his right wrist, Luke wondered what exactly had happened all those years ago on an unidentified world, along the shores of a lava river.

The problem was Obi-Wan remembered so many good years with Anakin, and really had loved him like a brother. It was still so hard for him to believe that Anakin had turned to evil. And even after all the unforgivable things he had done under the name of Darth Vader, Obi-Wan still found himself missing his friend Anakin Skywalker.

The boy is dangerous,” Obi-Wan told Qui-Gon as they came onto the landing platform. “They all sense it. Why can’t you?” “His fate is uncertain, not dangerous,” Qui-Gon replied with a touch of irritation.

Mace Windu and Yoda exchanged glances. Mace’s lips tightened. Then he put into words the thing all of them had avoided saying. “If the Chancellor does not end this war with the destruction of General Grievous, he must be removed from office.” “Arrested?” Obi-Wan felt cold. They were coming perilously close to treason in even discussing such a possibility. “To a dark place, this line of thought will take us,” Yoda said, echoing his thoughts. “Great care, we must take.” Great care, indeed. But if the Chancellor continued the war, what choice would they have?

The way Luke, Yoda and Obi Wan kept banging on about their religion, it's obvious they saw it as a holy war.' 'Yeah, but those space teddy bears were cute.' 'Ewoks? Ewoks cook their prisoners and use the helmets of dead Stormtroopers as drums. You call them space teddy bears, I call them war criminals. And another thing. Even though he can backflip and lightsaber duel, Yoda claims he needs to use a walking stick. What's that all about? Apart from

He puts his hands out. "I don't like this plan at all. It didn't work in A New Hope." I tie his wrists together, making sure the rope is tight enough to look convincing but loose enough that he can slip out. "They rescued Princess Leia!" "Obi-Wan Kenobi died, though, even if it was on purpose. And I'm not really sure who's who in this scenario. I'm obviously a Han Solo type. You're maybe a Luke Skywalker. Good hair. Better at fighting than you have any right to be. A bit on the whiny side." "Just for that, I'm declaring you the C-3PO of this mission." "Hey now! That's not fair." "Whatever you say, 3PO.

... after all, Obi-Wan loved flying and wanted to become an even better pilot, so he ought to learn about as many kinds of craft as possible.

Life carried on. Much as it always had. In this harsh and rugged place, where all could seem hopeless, but where sometimes, inexplicably… new hopes were forged. In blood and fire and sand. And sky.