Demon Knight Quotes

And yes, I came over here fully intending to seduce you." He lifted his head and whispered in my ear, "It's what I'm good at. Just like you're good at evading demons and kicking ass." "Kicking ass?" I questioned as he dropped his head back to the arm of the couch. His hand was exploring again, and I didn't want to move. "Yeah," he said, and I jumped as he found a ticklish spot. "I like a woman who takes care of herself." "Not much of a white knight on a horse, huh?" He raised one eyebrow. "Oh, I could," he said. "But I'm a lazy son of a bitch.

So you have demons? Baby, they match mine.

We were innocent once. This bloodlust was forced upon us by our parents, turning us from prey to predator. We are the demons lurking in the shadow, We are the savage villains in fairy tales told to children. But not for my child. Not for Hope. In her story, we are the knights in shining armour. Without you by my side, I don't think I can survive my own love for my daughter. I need you. I need you, brother. The monster in me can only be checked by the monster in you. Only together can we defeat our demons and save our family.

Stop her!" Matthias bellowed as he thundered downstairs. Blake's mouth twisted sideways, hand tightened on the knob. What little breath I'd regained, caught. Heart sputtered to a standstill. Then he swung the door open with a sweep of his arm. "After you, milday." My legs didn't hesitate. I vaulted off the porch and hit the driveway running. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?!" "I'm her knight in shining armor. Seriously, dude, your chivalry needs some work. Ow!

We think, sometimes, there's not a dragon left. Not one brave knight, not a single princess gliding through secret forests, enchanting deer and butterflies with her smile. What a pleasure to be wrong. Princesses, knights, enchantments and dragons, mystery and adventure ...not only are they here-and-now, they're all that ever lived on earth! Our century, they've changed clothes, of course. Dragons wear government-costumes, today, and failure-suits and disaster-outfits. Society's demons screech, whirl down on us should we lift our eyes from the ground, dare we turn right at corners we've been told to turn left. So crafty have appearances become that princesses and knights can be hidden from each other, can be hidden from themselves.

It’s me. Hell’s bells, there isn’t anything that I can think of that would mimic me looking like this. Even demonic fiends from the nether regions of hell have some taste.

We’re all monsters sometimes,” he said. “At one point or another. Every single one of us.” “Sometimes, you have to be a monster to defeat the demons,

Good evening peepers, prowlers, pederasts, panty-sniffers, punks and pimps. I'm James Ellroy, the demon dog, the foul owl with the death growl, the white knight of the far right, and the slick trick with the donkey dick. I'm the author of 16 books, masterpieces all; they precede all my future masterpieces. These books will leave you reamed, steamed and drycleaned, tie-dyed, swept to the side, true-blued, tattooed and bah fongooed. These are books for the whole fuckin' family, if the name of your family is Manson.

I am Harry, son of Malcolm," I shouted back. "I have battled dark sorcerers and black knights! I have fought men and beasts in numbers too great for counting, invaded the heart of Winter, confronted necromancers and the living dead, vampires and ghouls and demons in their hordes endless! I have matched wits with the six Queens of Faerie and prevailed, and thwarted the combined will of the White Council! When they came for my child, I smote the Red Court of Vampires, and laid them in ruin for all the world to see. I am Harry, son of Malcolm, and I have entered the vaults of Tartarus, and stolen its treasures beneath the gaze of Hades himself! And I'm about to add giant slaying to my résumé.

I could picture how Caprice was before we lost her. Dark hair, beautiful smile, intelligent hazel eyes, quick wit. Now gone. Just gone. Like a chessboard where suddenly one of the knights disappeared. A blank spot on the board of life that could never truly be replaced because no two things were alike, no two beings alike.

I was torn apart. But you, my knight, you found all the pieces and put me back together.

You feed my demons,” he rasped. “You created mine.

But what's left on earth that I haven't tried?" Prince Lír demanded. "I have swum four rivers, each in full flood and none less than a mile wide. I have climbed seven mountains never before climbed, slept three nights in the Marsh of the Hanged Men, and walked alive out of that forest where the flowers burn your eyes and the nightingales sing poison. I have ended my betrothal to the princess I had agreed to marry — and if you don't think that was a heroic deed, you don't know her mother. I have vanquished exactly fifteen black knights waiting by fifteen fords in their black pavilions, challenging all who come to cross. And I've long since lost count of the witches in the thorny woods, the giants, the demons disguised as damsels; the glass hills, fatal riddles, and terrible tasks; the magic apples, rings, lamps, potions, swords, cloaks, boots, neckties, and nightcaps. Not to mention the winged horses, the basilisks and sea serpents, and all the rest of the livestock." He raised his head, and the dark blue eyes were confused and sad. "And all for nothing," he said. "I cannot touch her, whatever I do. For her sake, I have become a hero — I, sleepy Lír, my father's sport and shame — but I might as well have remained the dull fool I was. My great deeds mean nothing to her.

I never realized how literally we battle demons. Often alone. It is a relentless skirmish with vicious wraith-monsters devouring us from within. We Fight. And resist for a time. Ultimately, desperation forces a cry for help. But where oh where are the valiant knights? When did they die off?

A tale where the knight kills the princess and rescues the demon lord.

a she-demon with a tunnel to Hades between her ever-scissoring legs? You had better staff a priest, my friend. A satanic priest.” Lucian fell to the floor now, kicking and holding his stomach. “Stop!” he begged, sobbing. “Stop, no more.

Sylvia Day spins a gorgeous adventure in A Touch of Crimson that combines gritty, exciting storytelling with soaring lyricism. Adrian is my favorite kind of hero--an alpha male angel determined to win the heart of his heroine, Lindsay, while protecting her from his lethal enemy. Lindsay is a gutsy, likable woman with paranormal abilities of her own, as well as a dedication to protecting humanity against a race of demonic monsters. This is definitely a book for your keeper shelf.

Jenna, you have Vix, and Archer, you have…Actually, what do you have?” “You,” he said firmly. “And a whole bunch of holy knights who want to kill me.” “Vix can visit,” Jenna said. “And the school will be a good place now, so it’s not like one more year will be torture. Although,” she said, frowning, “I will admit the place is pretty awful to look at. I don’t know how we’re going to fix that.” Facing the pond, staring at that green, green grass, I gave a shuddery laugh. “I don’t think we have to worry about the island,” I said, wiping stray tears with the back of my hand. “It’s being healed.” “Well, there you have it, then,” Archer said. “Vix can come for a visit, the island will eventually be a heck of a lot less depressing, and I’m not leaving you ever again.” “Yeah, and we still have to deal with The Eye being…Eyeish, and me learning to be Head of the Council, which will probably involve lots of boring books and-“ Archer pressed his mouth to mine, effectively shutting me up and kissing the hell out of me. When he pulled back, he was grinning. “And you have an arrogant, screwed-up former demon hunter who is stupidly in love with you.” “And an angsty vampire who will walk into hell with you. Actually, who has walked into hell with you,” Jenna added, coming around to my other side. “And parents who love you, and who are probably making out back at the car,” Archer said, and I laughed. “So, really,” Jenna said, and looped her arm through mine, “what more do you need?” I looked back and forth between them, these two people I loved so much. The breeze ruffled the tall grass around the pond, and I thought I could hear Elodie’s laugh. “Nothing,” I told them, squeezing both their hands. “Nothing.

Do you have a thing against knights?” “Pretty boys who run around slaying dragons to save the fair maiden?” He let the sarcasm dangle for a moment. “Nah. I’m just not one.

I stared into the darkness and thought how it mirrored what was inside me, how it hid the demon others called Puck.

Ninja beats pirate. Pirate beats ghost. Ghost beats zombie. Zombie beats most. Werewolf beats vampire. Vamp beats Imp. Imp beats fiend. Fiend beats wimp. Wizard beats cyrborg. Cyborg surely beats troll. Troll beats goblin. Goblin eats a hermit’s soul. Hermit beats child. Child beats wagon. Wagon beats moon snake. Moon snake beats dragon. Dragon beats hydra. Hydra beats sailor. Sailor beats teacher. Teacher beats tailor. Tailor beats sun worm. Sun worm beats clown. Clown beats robo-squid. Robo-squid beats town. Town fights jackals. Town will win. Town fights mummies. Town won’t fight again. Zookeeper beats hell hound. Hell hound beats giant. Giant beats accountant. Accountant beats client. Client beats frog. Frog beats himself. Knight beats Big Foot. Big Foot beats elf. Elf beats pixie. Pixie beats specter. Specter beats sea hag. Sea hag beats Hector. Hector beats serpent. Serpent beats rat. Rat beats Grandma. Grandma beats cat. Lava beats demon. Demon beats warlock. Warlock beats dinosaur. Dino beats Spock. Spock beats Lando. Lando beats Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon beats Jar-Jar. Jar-Jar beats none. Rock beats scissors. Scissors beat paper. Paper beats insect. Insect beats vapor. Wood Woman beats Tree Man. Tree Man beats the dark. The dark kills spider-fish. Spider-fish beats shark. You beat me. I beat a dentist. The dentist beats the barber. The barber is menaced. These are the rules, and never forget. Now hand over your money and place your bet.

Seek the Babe with Brother One Honour the Brother with his Blade of Souls Worship the Mother with her Shield of Stars Remember the Knight with Demons Dead Respect them all - for all are One

Risk, as first articulated by the economist Frank H. Knight in 1921,45 is something that you can put a price on. Say that you’ll win a poker hand unless your opponent draws to an inside straight: the chances of that happening are exactly 1 chance in 11.46 This is risk. It is not pleasant when you take a “bad beat” in poker, but at least you know the odds of it and can account for it ahead of time. In the long run, you’ll make a profit from your opponents making desperate draws with insufficient odds. Uncertainty, on the other hand, is risk that is hard to measure. You might have some vague awareness of the demons lurking out there. You might even be acutely concerned about them. But you have no real idea how many of them there are or when they might strike. Your back-of-the-envelope estimate might be off by a factor of 100 or by a factor of 1,000; there is no good way to know. This is uncertainty. Risk greases the wheels of a free-market economy; uncertainty grinds them to a halt.

I’ll take a shower.” “Want company?” “Enough, Blake.” Ayden stood and backhanded the big guy’s chest. “Just trying to do my Hexy Knight duty. How about we carpool tomorrow, babe? You could sit on my lap. I make a great seat belt.” “Shut up, Blake,” Ayden and I said in unison.

It was great but intense to try to go back into a character’s mind, a mind that is filled with self-loathing and a mind that is male. It is fun to try to psychoanalyze why a character acts and feels the way he/she does, and doing it as a different gender lends itself to many challenges. My desire to delve into the male psyche comes from many years of being drawn to men that seem to have a darker side. But there is also light in them, and it is that duality and intensity that makes me feel alive. Thorne is very much that man as is my first male protagonist, Michael, from the Natalie’s Edge series. Each man, while plagued with a dark past and demons, has this glorious light within them, fighting noble causes. I picture them as true anti-heroes, like the likes of Batman, the Dark Knight.

Hell, I was her demon. And now I was wiping her tears and holding her close. I was no saint. I was the darkness that chased her. I was what haunted her dreams, I was her nightmare, and yet she held me like I was the knight that had ridden in on my white horse—she was right about one thing— the horse was white, but the knight was no servant to the king —he was fallen , and she’d singlehandedly resurrected him, not realizing something was very wrong.

WE DO OUR TWENTY minutes of meditation a day in the hope that, properly stilled, our minds will stop just reflecting back to us the confusion and multiplicity of our world but will turn to a silvery mist like Alice’s looking glass that we can step through into a world where the beauty that sleeps in us will come awake at last. We send scientific expeditions to Loch Ness because if the dark and monstrous side of fairy tales can be proved to exist, who can be sure that the blessed side doesn’t exist, too? I suspect that the whole obsession of our time with the monstrous in general—with the occult and the demonic, with exorcism and black magic and the great white shark—is at its heart only the shadow side of our longing for the beatific, and we are like the knight in Ingmar Bergman’s film The Seventh Seal, who tells the young witch about to be burned at the stake that he wants to meet the devil her master, and when she asks him why, he says, “I want to ask him about God. He, if anyone, must know.

The sins that a human soul accumulates are weighed after death, but gods are different. Primordials, both celestials and demons alike, are brought into existence through the chaotic whims of the universe, and the same can be said of our deaths. For all the time in between, we remain immortal, our existence justified by the universe itself. If we never die and our sins are never weighed, who’s to say we have any sins to be judged at all? That’s why, there’s no good or bad to a god. There is only what is right, and only upon our deaths can we be wrong.

Tell me you're not going to do anything stupid." "I'm not that kind of guy, Peter." "Not usually, no. But I've seen the look you've got in your eyes. A guy so consumed with his demons he'd throw himself on a min to escape it. Then they send the little polished medal home to the people who love him. You've got a lot of people who care about you, Ben. Don't do that to them. If you don't trust yourself tonight, then let me shadow you." Ben sighed, looked back out in the darkness. "Fine, but keep a distance. I don't want anyone to think we're dating." "No chance of that. I wouldn't be caught dead dating an ambulance chaser.

Demon stink? On John Ross?

Hey, big guy.” After a moment, he said, “Babe?” He blinked and sat up, making the gurney squeak and groan. “Guys? What’d I miss?” A better family life? Your mom and sister? The kind of great dad you deserved? I wanted to say all of that, but I didn’t. I swallowed and had to blink back a few tears. “You’re my knight in shining armor.” I hugged him hard. “You saved the damsel. Now it’s my turn.” I hugged him again.

In a giddy tone I announced, “Operation Demon Days, Hexy Knights. Knight with a ‘K’.” Someone groaned. Matthias grimaced. “Absolutely not. It’s ridiculous.” “It’s perfect!” Blake picked me up for a quick twirl around. “I’m a Hexy Knight. I love having her in the group.” “No,” Matthias said. “She’s not—we’re not keeping her.” What am I, a stray?” Jayden shook his head. “‘Hexy’ isn’t even a word.” Tristan frowned. “It makes us sound like wizards casting spells.” “No, dude. It makes us sound sexy.” “It makes us sound stupid,” Matthias said. As Blake settled me back on the checkered blanket, I huffed, “Well, thank you Professor of the Dark Arts.” “Aren’t you the clever sheila. Really dug deep for that one.

If I were smarter, I would cut my losses and find a less satisfying man who offered more stability and fewer demons.

I used to fear the dark because it was when you hurt me, but then I faced those demons. I looked into the dark and embraced my fear because hurt comes both day and night. The monsters don't wait for the sun to set, this isn't a goddamn fairy tale. This is life and monsters... monsters are everywhere. But they are human. Flesh and blood like me and you.

Oh,” he said with resigned defeat. “Would you rather…have someone else? Please don’t say Blake. He’ll be impossible—” “No, it’s—” Ayden slapped his forehead. “Matthias.” I choked. He raked his fingers through his hair and nodded. “Girls always go for the dark brooding one with the tortured past. Should’ve seen that coming

In the medieval romances the mountain spirit essentially assumes three forms: that of a monstrous beast who has settled there, that of a giant, and that of a knight responsible for misrule. While the monstrous animal sometimes dwells in a cave, the giant and knight reside in a castle, a rude enclosure built of branches, or a fort, but we should be aware that in these cases we are dealing with a feudalized form of the original supernatural being.

She smirks at me, the one that makes me want to do bad things to her. One smile, and it pushes away all my demons that are longing to be free.

And I’ll gladly take them. Ryder, you’re stronger than you know, so fucking strong. Why do you think I stayed? Even when I first came, I didn’t really try to escape and never really knew why. Maybe it’s because I knew this was where I belonged. In your arms. So you have demons? Baby, they match mine. We can do this together, but no more icing us out. We are family. They won’t judge you, just like you don’t judge them. It’s time to let go, Ryder, let the ghosts die with that hotel, because you have so much more to live for now. And I will remind you every fucking day if you need me to. I will take it all, every bit of anger and destruction. Paint it across my skin, I’ll wear it gladly. I’m yours, Ryder, and you’re mine.” He searches my eyes. “Promise?” It’s a child’s word on a man’s lips, a man who lost everything for so long. Who was never taught love or kindness. “Promise,” I whisper.

She set me free from my demons without even trying. Never has this home had such laughter or happiness. It echoes round these silent, miserable walls, filling it with life. Filling it with her.

I used to be so fucking scared of you. I used to fear the dark because it was when you hurt me, but then I faced those demons. I looked into the dark and embraced my fear because hurt comes both day and night. The monsters didn’t wait for the sun to set, this isn’t a goddamn fairy tale. This is life and monsters… monsters are everywhere. But they are human. Flesh and blood like me and you. I hated you for so long, your control over me even after I left. But I’m finally moving on, and to do that, to move on from you, I have to forgive you. To yank those claws free, to let the pain and the fear go. To forgive the dark and myself for hating you for so long and holding onto that until it warped me. I see it now—how weak you are. Your own fear is in your eyes, fear of yourself. Of what you are… of what you have become, but, Daddy? You should fear what you created more.

It grounded me, but then you came—” He shakes his head again, his eyes lighting up and his lips curling. “Like a fucking hurricane. You shook up my world. I knew you would when I saw you, but I just couldn’t walk away. There’s an innocence to you. I know you’ve seen the shit life has to offer, but you still smile, still laugh. I craved it, wanted to make it mine and… and destroy it. But I didn’t count on your fucking will. You wrapped me—us, around your fingers so easily. I would do anything for you, love, be anything you needed, and that terrified me because that same power, those same demons who made my dad him are in me, and you have to deal with them all. Because I can’t let you go, not ever. That makes me a bastard, I know, but when you are in my arms, I feel invincible. I feel so fucking strong, like I could do anything. You make me like that. You make me stronger, and because of that, you have to deal with the consequences…

Diesel saw that before any of us. The rest of us lived in ignorance, unwilling to bend and break. Not him, he ripped open those walls inside me, refusing to hide from the truth. Some might call him crazy, but maybe he’s just enlightened… and, okay, a little crazy. Kenzo… fuck, Kenzo. It will kill him if I die. He already lost his mum, and he’s got such a caring heart, even if you don’t always see it. When he loves, he loves hard. He’s all in. Ryder will blame himself. He thinks it’s his job to protect everyone, to see everything coming, but he’s only human. It won’t stop him from hating himself however. Garrett is so close to the edge anyway, this might push him over. My scarred enforcer will become lost in his demons until it gets him killed.

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Have you ever thought of going into politics, Talarius?” Tom asked wearily. The knight seemed puzzled. “No, why?” “Because you would make an excellent politician. You can twist any absurd set of facts around until they fit your idea of how the universe should be, without so much as batting an eyelash,” Tom said.

Introduction Part I - Recruitment Death War The White Knight Pestilence Part II – The Academy Hellenica Training The Pledge The Banshee The First Class The Legged Snake The Amazon Demon

Next to water, the forest is the great lair or refuge of land spirits. It is a haunted place, an outlying space full of violence; a site of exclusion; a refuge of outcasts and exiles as well as pagan beliefs; a place of marvels and perils; a savage, marginal, dreadful space; as well as a focal point of peasant memory. It is in the forest where we most often find those fountains and springs that were discussed in the previous chapter. The fairy Ninienne or Vivian loved to linger at the edge of the fountain of Briosques Forest, and Melusine and her sisters near the one in the forest of Coulombiers. Here roams the mythic wild boar, li blans pors, hunted by King Arthur’s knights; here is where the Mesnie Hellquin travels as do the hosts of Diana and Herodiades.

To be a good knight, a good leader, a good man for that matter, you must judge a person by his or her actions. By their character.

So you’re saying, if there’s a wagon heading down two paths, one with many people tied to the road and one with few, you would...” the woman trailed off. “Kill the demon that tied them to the road,” Darren finished for her. “I see...” the woman said. “That seems to be a recurring theme in your answers here. Well, I suppose I’ll pass you on zealotry alone. You have my approval to take quests.

A particular sailor kept landing on my board. I noticed his arms first—a skull tattoo with demon eyes. “It’s called Psycho Eyes,” he said. “My Navy nickname. We all have one.” He laughed and moved his knight.

She set me free from my demons without even trying. Never has this home had such laughter or happiness. It echoes around these silent, miserable walls, filling it with life. Filling it with her.

It was the lesser god, Orcus that created the Ogres. Fueled by jealousy of the All-Father’s marvelous creations, (the Gnomes and Humans), he used his powers to bring into existence, the strongest and most durable race on Terra. But as you know, they lack any semblance of thoughtful intelligence, or grace. The other gods laughed at Orcus and the inept brutes he spawned. Orcus became enraged. He vied for revenge against the gods and the fairer races they created. He did not possess the power to make another race of beings, so he took the ogre females, and adjusted their fertility. They would not reproduce as often as before, reduced to only a few offspring in a lifetime. Orcus poured all his remaining power and loathing into their womb, so that every once in a great while—an Ogre Mage is born; an Ogre with the intelligence of a man, and the innate ability to cast certain spells.

I’ll do everything in my power to show you how much you mean to me. I know it’s crazy, I know you feel like you barely know me. But I need you, Demon, in a way I didn’t even know was possible.

It’s not my job to straighten them out. Only they can do that. I talk to them and hopefully find the right keys to unlock the chains tethering them to their demons. If I’m lucky enough to figure that out, then I open a door and show them how to get there so they can leave those monsters behind. But it’s up to them to muster the courage to get to the door, to walk through it, and not stumble back.

You showed true bravery as you faced your demon. The least I could do was face my own.

You can tell by now that I’m no white knight, Storm. But I’ll slay your demons because your demons are mine. You are mine.

Charlotte, this is Royal.” He pointed to the guy with the crown half mask. “Knight.” The guy beside him with the gas mask. “Hero.” Demon skeleton guy with the rune on his forehead. “And Poet.” The blinded skeleton with the happy voice. “Guys, this is Charlotte.

I know I don’t deserve it. I know you hate me. I know all of that. But fuck… I can’t live without you, Demon. I’ll spend every single second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, to prove to you how I feel about you.

You’re everything, Demon. Fucking everything.

Jodie, Demon,” I start, my voice already thick with emotion and my hand trembling as I hold the ring out between us. “You’re my best friend, my soul mate, the love of my life. Will you do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife?

Lilin-Demon in old Mesopotamia. Lidérc in Hungary.

But life is strange and fate is stranger.

Because, as everyone knows, for witches pain is more painful, joy is more joyful, desire is more consuming, and sorrow is more debilitating.

There are thousands, maybe millions of little choices in a life that are made by free will because they don’t impact the big things. But the big things are going to happen no matter what.

Good Hecate Day,” she said.

Mother looked at her. Her eyes were hard. Anna realized quite suddenly that this woman with whom she now spoke was not her Mother. Rather, she was Jessica Dyer, former Captain of House Dradón’s White Demons, one of the most ruthless dragon knights of Dávanor. And she was ordering Anna into battle.

Robin Goodfellow to those he knows. Puck to those he kills. He’s lived among humans for centuries, they think he’s a demon. The teenagers he’s forced to protect, despise him. This exiled warrior, traitor to the Fae and victim of persecution because of his sexuality, has turned into a lonely and unforgiving bastard. The perfect stooge to kill a king.

He would have welcomed death, even now. Slain by a demon, defiant to the end -- it was a good death, it was a knightly death, it was how he had always wanted to die.

Because to be strong isn’t about just your body, but your state of mind, and fighting the demons inside your head is the biggest battle you can ever face.

For the girls who don’t want a knight to slay their demons, but a villain to hand them the sword. Who don’t want to be given flowers, but the heads of their enemies instead. And lastly, for those who don’t want to be seduced in a bed of roses, but fucked in a pool of blood.

In the early eleventh century AD, a monk called Orderic Vitalis recorded a tale that had been told to him by a young priest, Walchelin. Returning from a sick call late at night, the priest had heard what he thought sounded like an approaching army. Taking shelter between four medlar trees he watched as the group approached, and saw to his horror that it was not a living army but a procession of the dead, all being punished for the sins they had committed while they were alive. Passing by his hiding place, Walchelin saw thieves forced to tote impossibly heavy sacks of their ill-gotten loot, a murderer whipped by demons, ‘lecherous’ women on saddles made of nails, plenty of badly behaved knights – even a segment of corrupt churchmen, which caused Orderic to muse that while men faultily judge from external appearances of goodness, God knows better.xiii This is the first attestation we have of a group of the dead parading through the night, and, according to Orderic, like all good monsters, they had a fondness for Christmastime – Walchelin stumbled across them on 1 January.