Chess Checkmate Quotes

In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.

We all play chess with Fate as partner. He makes a move, we make a move. He tries to checkmate us in three moves, we try to prevent it. We know we can't win, but we're driven to give him a good fight.

In my experience, commitment leads to expectations, and expectations lead to lies, and hurt, and disappointment-stuff I'd rather not experience, or force others to experience.

I'm drenched in the flood which has yet to come I'm tied up in the prison that has yet to exist Not having played the game of chess I'm already the checkmate Not having tasted a single cup of your wine I'm already drunk Not having entered the battlefield I'm already wounded and slain I no longer know the difference between image and reality Like the shadow I am and I am not

Whereas a novice makes moves until he gets checkmated (proof), a Grand Master realizes 20 moves in advance that it’s futile to continue playing (conceptualizing).

It'll be like a game of chess. We can let the game unfold as it did before, but if we want to avoid checkmate, we'll have to readjust the pieces a few moves shy of the finish.

Being on Facebook too much in a row is like playing chess in a black hole. You never know if the next move will lead you to a checkmate or a mate checked.

Grandmaster games are said to begin with novelty, which is the first move of the game that exits the book. It could be the fifth, it could be the thirty-fifth. We think about a chess game as beginning with move one and ending with checkmate. But this is not the case. The games begins when it gets out of book, and it end when it goes into book..And this is why Game 6 [between Garry Kasparov and Deep Blue] didn't count...Tripping and falling into a well on your way to the field of battle is not the same thing as dying in it...Deep Blue is only itself out of book; prior to that it is nothing. Just the ghosts of the game itself.

daughter of the servants.” “Gee, you must have been lonely, Judge, having nobody to play with.” “I played with Sam Westing—chess. Hour after hour I sat staring down at that chessboard. He lectured me, he insulted me, and he won every game.” The judge thought of their last game: She had been so excited about taking his queen, only to have the master checkmate her in the next move. Sam Westing had deliberately sacrificed his queen and she had fallen for it. “Stupid child, you can’t have a brain in that frizzy head to make a move like that.” Those were the last words he ever said to her. The judge continued: “I was sent to boarding school when I was twelve. My parents visited me at school when they could, but I never set foot in the Westing house again, not until two weeks ago.” “Your folks must have really worked hard,” Sandy said. “An education like that costs a fortune.” “Sam Westing paid for my education. He saw that I was accepted into the best schools, probably arranged for my first job, perhaps more, I don’t know.” “That’s the first decent thing I’ve heard about the old man.” “Hardly decent, Mr. McSouthers. It was to Sam Westing’s advantage to have a judge in his debt. Needless to say, I have excused myself from every case remotely connected with

keep

He felt like a chess-master who, two moves from achieving checkmate, suddenly sees a live kitten dropped on to the middle of the board, scattering pieces.

Never play chess with God, He checkmates His opponents even before the game begins.

On the chessboard lies and hypocrisy do not survive long. The creative combination lays bare the presumption of a lie; the merciless fact, culminating in a checkmate, contradicts the hypocrite.

There is no time, there no space. What was, is, and ever shall be. You are you, playing chess with yourself, and again you have checkmated yourself. You are the referee. Morals are your agreement with yourself to abide by your own rules. To thine own self be true or you spoil the game.

Divided - No tides of time or distance will wash away your step. It does not fleet as they do, those gladiators and their mighty spears or the beasts that howl into the dark for release. Our story carves deeper, pitilessly, infinitely. A wound that bleeds the ink that stained your palm and the tears of an impossible tomorrow.

checkmate is the obvious goal, there are others, such as learning how to think with discipline and with enthusiasm.

I prefer that I stay a free person to do what I want to do within the moral values than like the Chess-King escapes every time, from the Check-Mate to protect just himself using the cost of others.

Fancy what a game of chess would be if all the chessmen had passions and intellects, more or less small and cunning; if you were not only uncertain about your adversary's men, but a little uncertain also about your own; if your knight could shuffle himself on to a new square by the sly; if your bishop, at your castling, could wheedle your pawns out of their places; and if your pawns, hating you because they are pawns, could make away from their appointed posts that you might get checkmate on a sudden. You might be the longest-headed of deductive reasoners, and yet you might be beaten by your own pawns. You would be especially likely to be beaten, if you depended arrogantly on your mathematical imagination, and regarded your passionate pieces with contempt. Yet this imaginary chess is easy compared with the game a man has to play against his fellow-men with other fellow-men for his instruments.

what she does is play, in six dimensions, a game of chess in which every piece is a game of Go, whole boards dancing around each other, pushed, knights turned rooks, iterations of atari carefully constructing checkmate. She lays grass over grass over grass and studies, not only the geometries of green, but the calculus of scent and heat, the thermodynamics of understory, the velocity of birdsong.

The Offing - And if the sky itself, no matter its hue, were to fracture... What then? Would I then know freedom's name? In my wake lies the shore—a past where I had been happy—refusing to yield to the tide. Before me, upon the horizon, is the sun... hesitant... inert... A new day cannot rise if its ancestor does not fall. Am I but a pawn in this game? I cannot command the sun to set, nor will the moon to take its place and wash the shore away. That power belongs to kings. To drown in the offing. Such sovereign beauty. Such exquisite pain.

chess is deeper and more mysterious than all of us put together; it’ll exist until somebody manages to master it completely, and that’ll never happen, Ferenck, it’s impossible for that to happen. Oslovski looked at him in surprise, and said, at the end of the day it’s a question of statistics: we’ll keep getting better, more intelligent, more gifted, we’ll keep going farther. Soon the great men of the 21st century will be born, or rather, they’ll turn into adults, because many may already have been born, and then we’ll know about them. The Freuds and Marxes and Einsteins and Nietzsches of the 21st century must be going to school right now, or still playing with toy cars, or watching the fall of a leaf in a park, who knows? And apart from them, there’ll also be a young Kafka suffering then turning to literature as therapy, and there’ll be an aristocratic Proust, who’ll portray the decadent bourgeoisie of the early 21st century from within, and of course the new Rimbaud must already be walking the streets, a young man with his fists clenched with hate, struggling against the social forms, and the Bukowski of the 21st century receiving a thrashing from his father and discovering that alcohol dulls the pain, and of course some boy of seven or eight must be on the verge of checkmating an adult on a chessboard,

FANCY what a game at chess would be if all the chessmen had passions and intellects, more or less small and cunning: if you were not only uncertain about your adversary’s men, but a little uncertain also about your own; if your knight could shuffle himself on to a new square by the sly; if your bishop, in disgust at your castling, could wheedle your pawns out of their places; and if your pawns, hating you because they are pawns, could make away from their appointed posts that you might get checkmate on a sudden. You might be the longest-headed of deductive reasoners, and yet you might be beaten by your own pawns. You would be especially likely to be beaten, if you depended arrogantly on your mathematical imagination, and regarded your passionate pieces with contempt. Yet this imaginary chess is easy compared with the game a man has to play against his fellow-men with other fellow-men for his instruments.

In reality the oft-invoked distinction between constitutive rule and prag- matic rule has no raison d’être. Every constitutive rule—the bishop moves in this or that way—can be formulated as a pragmatic rule—“one cannot move the bishop except diagonally”—and vice versa. The same happens with grammati- cal rules: the syntactic rule “in French the subject normally precedes the verb” can be formulated pragmatically as “you cannot say pars je ; you can only say je pars.” In truth it is a matter of two different ways of considering the game—or language: one as a formal system that exists in itself (namely, as a langue) and another as a use or praxis (namely, as a parole). For this reason it has rightly been asked whether it is possible to transgress a rule of chess, like what constitutes checkmate. One would be tempted to say that transgression, which is impossible on the level of constitutive rules, is pos- sible on the pragmatic level. In reality, the one who transgresses the rule simply ceases playing. Hence the special gravity of the swindler: the one who swindles does not transgress a rule but pretends to keep playing when in reality he has left the game.

Life is like a chess game, you either checkmate or you get checkmated.

Hanging pieces are like low-hanging fruit, tempting and easy to pick.

chess.’ ‘How so?’ John picked up a pawn. ‘I’m one of these, trying to cross the board—only my board is the ocean—and I’m trying to protect myself from being taken out of the game.’ ‘I see what you mean.’ Jed’s thoughts drifted to John Billington. ‘And I’m in danger of becoming a king in checkmate.

In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate. —Isaac Asimov Writer

just

You show your vulnerability; you become vulnerable. You show your weaknesses; you become weak. You tell your secret; you become exposed. In the game of chess, guard your king while you still can. Else... CHECKMATE✅

Dealing with manipulative baby mamas is like playing chess with someone who wrote the rulebook and keeps moving the pieces when you're not looking. Checkmate, drama queen.

Zee had only grinned at me when I was valuable to her. I'd go on to tangle with other bosses and authority figures, and that dynamic never changed. Affection never outlasted need. This was the first lesson the city taught me the hard way. The vast majority of us are merely pawns in someone else's game. Don't get defensive over this point. Embrace it. Once you do, you can begin to manipulate the board. Positioned correctly, pawns can checkmate kings.

That’s chess!” snapped Ron. “You’ve got to make some sacrifices! I’ll make my move and she’ll take me — that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!

Castling is the newest move in chess.

Checkmate leaves no weaknesses in its wake.

White does not count correctly and plays 1.Qxf7+?? Black, of course, should take the queen with 1...Kxf7, but young beginners often automatically “move their king out of check” instead of looking at the other possibilities of capturing the checking piece or blocking the check. So they play 1...Kd8?? and just lose a pawn! And with the black queen on d8, they often “resign,” since they assume 1.Qxf7+?? is checkmate!

Intuition and instinct form the bedrock of our decision-making, especially the rapid-fire decisions that make up our daily lives. We don’t have to analyze why we turn left here and right there on the way to work, we just do it. A chess player can spot a simple checkmate in three moves without hesitation even if he’s never seen that exact position before in his life.

I, the most knowing hand in Granta — I, who if I did pique myself on any one thing, piqued myself on my skill and knowledge in managing the beau sexe — I, to be told I did not know women! I pocketed the affront, however, as best I might, for I felt a growing respect for the Colonel, with his myriad talents, his brilliant reputation, and mysterious reserve; and told him I did not believe De Vigne cared an atom more for the Trefusis than for twenty others before her. “I hope so,” he answered; “but that chess they are playing yonder ends too often in checkmate. However, we will not prophesy so bad a fate for our friend; for worse he could not have than to fall into those soft hands. By the way, though, her hands are not soft, they are not the hands of a lady.

Religion and revolution reverberated through northern Mexico like the thunder and lightning of its wild and fierce storms. This book reveals the motivation behind the madness and the role religion played in the very struggle for the soul of Mexico. During the revolution, many lived and died; lost in a thousand fields and unnamed pueblos, meaningless except to the few who knew and loved them, and who would never see them again. Whatever their cause, in the words of Philippians 2:8, they were faithful . . . even unto death. This book is for those who love Mexico and who want a research-based, yet highly readable account of the role religion played in the conflict. Often lost among the myths were the millions driven by forces they couldn’t comprehend. They were knights, bishops, castles, and yes, pawns – in the revolutionary chess matches that nearly resulted in the checkmate of Mexican civilization. It took Phil Stover three years to write this book, but La Llorona has been crying for her children for centuries. She sobs for all those who have been lost in Mexico’s turbulent past and present. Listen carefully, dear reader. Perhaps in the pages of this book you too will hear her cries!

...erosion control in Japan is like a game of chess. The forest engineer, after studying his eroding valley, makes his first move, locating and building one or more check dams. He waits to see what Nature's response is. This determines the forest engineer's next move, which may be another dam or two, an increase in the former dam, or the construction of side retaining walls. After another pause for observation, the next move is made and so on until erosion is checkmated." (An Agricultural Testament)

You’re always playing chess with everyone in your life. Everything is about power, about outmaneuvering the other person. There’s no relationship where someone isn’t trying to checkmate you. Spouses, friends, coworkers, neighbors, it’s all a competition in one regard or another.

It's hard to run from checkmate, checkmate is like the dead... but it's possible to block it. Unfortunately dead you can't block it, but checkmate can be blocked, in such way so the player can't make it.

What Will Linger/Hollow of Him - They crept so quietly back. Mere hints of words, at first, then whispers in the loud echoing a winter past. In this place, hollow of Him, his poetry resounded. I could almost taste the fragments of the worlds he had discovered. I remember the ache in his words; you could see each syllable smoulder in his gaze.

In the game of chess, an experienced player may take a novice to the brink of defeat in just three moves. The fourth move can be checkmate, and the kingdom is lost.

You didn’t win at chess by killing pawns—you won by checkmating the king.

Attention – Teach chess. Research shows that learning chess raises testable IQ by 15 points! (Dauvergne, 2000) Start teaching chess using just the pawns and queens. The object of pawns and queens is to get one pawn all the way across the board first. When the student has mastered this simple game, add the knights. After all the pieces have been taught one at a time it’s time to add the king and teach about check and checkmate. When the student can play a full game it’s time to encourage the him/her to join the local chess club if the student shows an interest.

when a computer program beats a grandmaster at chess, the two are not using even remotely similar algorithms. The grandmaster can explain why it seemed worth sacrificing the knight for strategic advantage and can write an exciting book on the subject. The program can only prove that the sacrifice does not force a checkmate, and cannot write a book because it has no clue even what the objective of a chess game is. Programming AGI is not the same sort of problem as programming Jeopardy or chess. An AGI is qualitatively, not quantitatively, different from all other computer programs.

Tactics and Checkmate in 1 move, show me some interesting stuff about chess... so far I can say that I see the chessboard different.

ख़ुद ही देखो तुमने शह किसकी पाई है ज़ाहिर है तुम्हें कि मात कहाँ से आई है KHUDD HI DEKHO, TUMNEIN SHAH KISKI PAI HAI ZAHIR HAI TUMHEIN KI MAT KAHAN SE AAYI HAI

That’s when I realised it was all a game of chess. A game with too many checkmates for one board, and maybe too many pawns, with an enraged queen aiming to topple a king that fate had already forgiven and probably sent to purgatory.

Chess is easy if you think ahead, the further out the better. You have to weigh the strengths you have. Decide what pieces can be sacrificed. Choose what pieces need to be protected. But the key, Scott preached, if playing against any skilled opponent, was the fake. You had to convince them that you were moving down one path—maybe a dumb path, an innocent path—while you skillfully tiptoed through your true plan, the one that would lead them straight to checkmate.

Chess is life. Move one piece, take a step in life. Move another, yet another step. Make a bad move, spend a couple of moves correcting it and paying the price. And by move, I mean a year of your life.

In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.

I'm drenched in the flood, which has yet to come. I'm tied up in the prison, which has yet to exist. Not having played the game of chess, I'm already the checkmate. Not having tasted a single cup of your wine, I'm already drunk. Not having entered the battlefield, I'm already wounded and slain. I no longer know the difference between image and reality. Like the shadow. I am, and, I am not. I Am And I Am Not Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi, c. 1250 A.D.

Some people think the point of chess is to kill the king. You know the truth.” “Checkmate. It comes from the Persian verb for to remain. It means he’s helpless. Trapped.

Here’s a list of things an intermediate player will have in his chess toolbox: Checkmate patterns involving the Queen, Rooks, Knights and Bishops in combination with each other. King and Queen checkmate. King and Rook checkmate. King and pawn (promotion), then King and Queen checkmate. Pins, skewers, and forks. Understands the principles of the opening. Knows a solid opening for white, and can play a sound opening for black against both e4 and d4 openings. Understands the idea of winning the exchange, and knows what to do after getting up in material.

So just how good a chess player are you?” she challenged impudently. An hour later Mikhail leaned back in his chair to watch her face as she studied the board. She was frowning in concentration, trying to puzzle out his unfamiliar strategy. She could sense that he was leading her into a trap, but she couldn’t find it. Raven leaned her chin on the heel of her hand, relaxed, in no hurry. She was patient and thorough and twice had gotten him into trouble simply because he was too sure of himself. Suddenly her eyes widened, a slow smile curving her soft mouth. “You are a cunning devil, aren’t you, Mikhail? But I think your cleverness may have gotten you into a bit of trouble.” He watched her with hooded eyes. His teeth gleamed white in the firelight. “Did I happen to mention, Miss Whitney, that the last person impertinent enough to beat me at chess was thrown in the dungeon and tortured for thirty years?” “I believe that would have made you about two at the time,” she teased, her eyes glued to the chessboard. He sucked in his breath sharply. He had been comfortable in her presence, felt totally accepted. She obviously believed he was mortal, with superior telepathic powers. Mikhail lazily reached across the board to make his move, saw the dawning comprehension in her eyes. “I believe what we have is checkmate,” he said silkily. “I should have known a man who walks in the forest surrounded by wolves would be devious.

eside him, on a low table stood a chess set she remembered. The heavy pieces of rock crystal and silver stood, darkly glimmering below the light of the window, and the fire, seeking them, had placed within each a small tongue of living flame. She said, ‘There are not many pieces now left on the board. Who is your opponent?’ ‘Myself. Who else?’ Lymond said.

(The modern chess player's cry of "Checkmate!" is a corruption of the Persian "Shakh Mat!" which translates, "The king is dead!")

Their little dance was like the endgame of a disastrously bloody chess match, just a queen chasing a beleaguered king around an empty board, sadistically refusing to checkmate.

If you do believe that earning notches in my belt is what I'm trying to do here, then aren't those very notches why you came to me?" This girl wasn't stupid, just angry. Her mouth pressed into a thin line; she hated that Trisha was right, but she also understood that Trisha was indeed right. "I came to you because my brother's friend believed that you could cure me, not play chess with my body parts." Trisha could see another painting, a chessboard with scrotums and vaginas, and in place of the king: eyeballs. Well, this was checkmate.

Tablebases [logs of complete chess games played backwards from the end-state of checkmate] are the clearest case of human chess vs. alien chess. A decade of trying to teach computers how to play endgames was rendered obsolete in an instant thanks to a new tool. This is a pattern we see over and over again in everything related to intelligent machines. It's wonderful if we can teach machines to think like we do, but why settle for thinking like a human if you can be a god? (jm3: Frustratingly for the humans, it was not disclosed whether IBM's Deep Blue stored and consulted endgame tablebases during competition).

In life, everything’s a mess. But on the board? I see everything. You can have your fake smiles and loud wins — I’ll take my quiet checkmates.

Corsican Checkmate by Stewart Stafford With one loyal warhorse, I could snatch victory! You force an ultimatum, An eagle downed for wrens. Are you battle steeds, Or brood mares of a new stallion? Or do you take my knight, In impotent checkmate? I, Napoleon, ruled Europe, From Brest to Brest-Litovsk, A chicken feather’s stroke, And my empire falls. You offer exile to Elba, Reaping rich estates Which I secured for you, Silence is my thanks. Give me your vile scrap, No death warrant, but close, I’ll scratch my mighty name, Here’s my blood — begone! This about the abdication of Napoleon Bonaparte. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.

He was playing checkers like a little boy while I was playing chess. His game became whack. So I checkmate him.

He was playing checkers like a little boy while I was playing chess. His game became wack. So I checkmate him.

Winning a few games of chess became one of the most miserable events of my life... I was oblivious to the fact that a few friendly checkmates could result in exposing a slumbering narcissistic wound.

The Power of the Pawn – at the start of a game of chess it may just be able to move one or two vacant square(s) directly forward, but with patience and strategy it can topple the fast and nimble opposite Queen - and even trap her King. Checkmate! It was part and parcel the story of my narcissistic abuse until I was able to remove the 'Queen of Grandiosity' from my existence. Relationships should never be about a game of 'Kings and Queens' or 'Winning or Losing', but a Reality of Mutual Respect, Trust and Gratitude…