Force Unleashed 2 Quotes

There are two things essential if you want to enhance your Jedi self-confidence: 1/ belief that it is possible 2/ that self-help is the best help

Future generations would be convinced that nothing good could ever have existed in a country that produced such evil. They would think only of these evils. It would be as if these unleashed dark forces had grotesquely marched like devils on dead horses, backward through the gash in the present, and had destroyed the German past too.

A revolution is always a tragedy, a destructive force unleashed by those stripped of every last option for peace. There's not a revolutionary in history who doesn't wish they could've gotten what they wanted within the world order they knew, but you cannot reform a system designed to keep power out of your hands.

He knew what was in their eyes, visible now beneath the hostility. It was terror. He could feel the tension of the Akielon forces too, knew they were expecting treachery. The first sword drawn, the first arrow loosed, would unleash a killing force. A

I would choose you." The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back. Silence stretched between them. Perhaps the floor will open and I'll plummet to my death, he thought hopefully. "As your general?" Her voice careful. She was offering him a chance to right the ship, to take them back to familiar waters. And a fine general you are. There could be no better leader. You may be prickly, but that what Ravka needs. So many easy replies. Instead he said, "As my queen." He couldn't read her expression. Was she pleased? Embarrassed? Angry? Every cell in his body screamed for him to crack a joke, to free both of them from the peril of the moment. But he wouldn't. He was still a privateer, and he'd come too far. "Because I'm a dependable soldier," she said, but she didn't sound sure. It was the same cautious, tentative voice, the voice of someone waiting for a punch line, or maybe a blow. "Because I know all of your secrets." "I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself." Hadn't she said there was no one else she'd choose to have her back in a fight? But that isn't the whole truth, is it, you great cowardly lump. To hell with it. They might all die soon enough. They were safe here in the dark, surrounded by the hum of engines. "I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time." She rolled on to her side, resting her head on her folded arm. A small movement, but he could feel her breath now. His heart was racing. "As your general, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision." He turned on to his side. They were facing each other now. "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you." Nikolai felt drunk. Maybe unleashing the demon had loosed something in his brain. She was going to laugh at him. She would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop. "I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached in to his pocket. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon in your hair on our wedding day." She reached out, her fingers hovering over the coil of blue velvet ribbon resting in his palm. Then she pulled back her hand, cradling her fingers as if they'd been singed. "You will wed a Taban sister who craves a crown," she said. "Or a wealthy Kerch girl, or maybe a Fjerdan royal. You will have heirs and a future. I'm not the queen Ravka needs." "And if you're the queen I want?" ... She sat up, drew her knees in, wrapped her arms around them as if she would make a shelter of her own body. He wanted to pull her back down beside him and press his mouth to hers. He wanted her to look at him again with possibility in her eyes. "But that's not who I am. Whatever is inside me is sharp and gray as the thorn wood." She rose and dusted off her kefta. "I wasn't born to be a bride. I was made to be a weapon." Nikolai forced himself to smile. It wasn't as if he'd offered her a real proposal. They both knew such a thing was impossible. And yet her refusal smarted just as badly as if he'd gotten on his knee and offered her his hand like some kind of besotted fool. It stung. All saints, it stung. "Well," he said cheerfully, pushing up on his elbows and looking up at her with all the wry humour he could muster. "Weapons are good to have around too. Far more useful than brides and less likely to mope about the palace. But if you won't rule Ravka by my side, what does the future hold, General?" Zoya opened the door to the Cargo hold. Light flooded in gilding her features when she looked back at him. "I'll fight on beside you. As your general. As your friend. Because whatever my failings, I know this. You are the king Ravka needs.

Aurobindo’s orientation has yielded important new insights into the thought of the Vedic seers (rishi), who “saw” the truth. He showed a way out of the uninspiring scholarly perspective, with its insistence that the Vedic seers were “primitive” poets obsessed with natural phenomena like thunder, lightning, and rain. The one-dimensional “naturalistic” interpretations proffered by other translators missed out on the depth of the Vedic teachings. Thus Sūrya is not only the visible material Sun but also the psychological-spiritual principle of inner luminosity. Agni is not merely the physical fire that consumes the sacrificial offerings but the spiritual principle of purifying transformation. Parjanya does not only stand for rain but also the inner “irrigation” of grace. Soma is not merely the concoction the sacrificial priests poured into the fire but also (as in the later Tantric tradition) the magical inner substance that transmutes the body and the mind. The wealth prayed for in many hymns is not just material prosperity but spiritual riches. The cows mentioned over and over again in the hymns are not so much the biological animals but spiritual light. The Panis are not just human merchants but various forces of darkness. When Indra slew Vritra and released the floods, he not merely inaugurated the monsoon season but also unleashed the powers of life (or higher energies) within the psyche of the priest. For Indra also stands for the mind and Vritra for psychological restriction, or energetic blockage. Aurobindo contributed in a major way to a thorough reappraisal of the meaning of the Vedic hymns, and his work encouraged a number of scholars to follow suit, including Jeanine Miller and David Frawley.2 There is also plenty of deliberate, artificial symbolism in the hymns. In fact, the figurative language of the Rig-Veda is extraordinarily rich, as Willard Johnson has demonstrated.3 In special sacrificial symposia, the hymn composers met to share their poetic creations and stimulate each other’s creativity and comprehension of the subtle realities of life. Thus many hymns are deliberately enigmatic, and often we can only guess at the solutions to their enigmas and allegorical riddles. Heinrich Zimmer reminded us: The myths and symbols of India resist intellectualization and reduction to fixed significations. Such treatments would only sterilize them of their magic.

Style would make you friends, inspire loyalty and devotion, spawn a hundred imitators. It would make you enemies, unleash jealousy and fear, bring down the brute force of authority. The one thing style would never leave you was neutral. As King KASE 2 would say in the movie Style Wars, “When they see you got a vicious style, they wanna get loose about it. And that’s what keeps it going.

Reflection • Think of a desirable but unrealistic outcome. Why exactly it is unrealistic? Whose comfort zones does it disrupt? Idea • Courageous goals have their own momentum. They force a change of scene, raise entirely new questions, and call new relationships into being. Tool • Use the Courageous Goal Starter Kit to get things moving: 1) Dream it, 2) Declare it, and 3) Get started. Tool • Make it sticky with SUCCES: Get more buy-in for your Courageous outcome by describing it using the principles defined by Chip and Dan Heath and their acronym, SUCCES – it should be 1) Simple, 2) Unexpected, 3) Concrete, 4) Credible, 5) Emotional, and 6) contain a Story.

That South occupied by our population of color, sir. Our Negroes. They say you are the rare white lawyer who is fair to the man of Negro blood.” “Well,” said Sam, somewhat taken aback, “if by that they mean that as a prosecuting attorney I laid the same force of law against white as against black, then they are correct. I believe in the law. But do not understand me too quickly, sir. I am not what you might call a race champion. I am not a hero of the Negro, nor do I ever mean to be. I believe history has dealt our American Negroes a sorry hand, as do many people. But I also believe that sorry hand will have to be corrected slowly. I am not one for tearing things down in service to various dubious moral sentiments, which in fact would turn my own race against me, which would unleash the savagery of the many embittered whites of the South against the poor Negro, which would in fact result in destruction everywhere. So, Mr. Trugood, if you thought I was someone to lead a crusade, change or challenge a law, throw down a gauntlet, burn a barn, sing a hymn, or whatever, why, I am not that man, sir.

This succinct statement points to two realities. First, the enslaving dominion of sin and death—those cosmic forces unleashed at the first Adam’s disobedience—has been broken (Rom 5:12–14) through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the †new, or second, Adam. Second, because they are no longer shackled, Christians can walk in the Spirit (Gal 5:16) by offering themselves freely in self-giving love for others. In fact, Paul has a paradoxical way of describing this Spirit-driven exercise of freedom: “become slaves of one another through love” (Gal 5:13, my translation; see 2 Cor 4:5).

Someone punched him in the arm. “Earth to Sandor. Earth to Sandor.” Kerry was looking at him with mild exasperation. “We’ve still got business to attend to. I assume you tried to block her memory.” “No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. I did the other night in the alley because I had no choice. This morning’s trip down memory lane also showed her that, too.” “And she didn’t take it well.” His Dame calmly rinsed and loaded the coffee mugs in the top rack of the dishwasher. When he didn’t immediately respond, she used her energy power to give him a slight shove. Despite her diminutive size, Kerry wasn’t afraid to face down irate males several times her size. “Well? Details please.” Irritated, Sandor snapped, “No, Kerry, she didn’t. Not only that, she accused me of using my secret abilities to coerce her into bed. This, after a night of mind-blowing sex that I’ve never experienced before and probably never will again. Is that enough detail for you?” “Watch it, Sandor. That’s my wife you’re crowding there.” Ranulf muscled in to get right up in Sandor’s face, his eyes blazing with blue fire. “I don’t give a rat’s ass how upset you are over this mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Talion. You do NOT talk to my wife like that. Am I making myself clear?” Sandor had been pushed far enough. “No, we’re not clear on that, you low-life berserker. This conversation between me and the Dame does not involve you. Stay the hell out of my business!” He gave Ranulf a shove, a move guaranteed to unleash the Consort’s own need to strike out. But before a single fist connected, an invisible force froze both of them in midswing. Son of a bitch, he wished Kerry would quit doing that. He really needed to punch someone, and Ranulf was such a great target.

HE WAS KNOWN AS THE Dark One. Malach ha-Maet. Yama. Azreal. Shadow Walker. Mairya. King of the Dead. He was all of those things and more, for he was a Lord of the Underworld. Long ago he had opened dimOuniak, a powerful box made from the bones of a goddess, unleashing a horde of demons upon the earth. As punishment, he and the warriors who aided him were forced to house those demons inside themselves, melding light and darkness, order and chaos, until they were barely able to retain any tether on the disciplined warriors they’d once been. Because

By force-marching his exhausted men through the unknown, rain-swept wilderness of the German-infested Teutoburg Forest, this guy had just made a brain-explodingly boneheaded mistake so amazing in its incompetence that it makes the Roman consuls at Cannae look like a conjoined triplet made out of Napoleon Bonaparte, Alexander the Great, and that dude from Total Recall who had the baby coming out of his stomach. In terms of career moves, marching three legions into the Teutoberg was the Classical Age equivalent of coauthoring an academic paper with the Unabomber or asking Charles Manson to write you a letter of recommendation for law school. Unsurprisingly, this came back to bite him in the ass. We don’t know exactly how many Germans were hiding in the woods, watching the column of imperial invaders trudge past. The Germans didn’t bother to write anything down more detailed than “killed sum d00ds 2day lulz,” and the only Romans who managed to run screaming out of this forest alive were the ones who knew better than to sit there and try to count how many GWAR fans were currently trying to brutally dismember them with axes. Let’s just say it was probably a crapload, and that when these long-haired death metal freaks unleashed a bloodcurdling shout and started charging through the forest like a bunch of gigantic mutant Ewok-Wookies ambushing the Imperial Stormtroopers on the Forest Moon of Endor it wasn’t exactly the sort of hilarious laugh riot you might see in an animated GIF involving unicorns, rainbows, and cartoon kitties with Pop-Tarts where their bodies are supposed to be. Bellowing like madmen, these balls-out, frothing-at-the-mouth, beer-swilling sausage fiends went Leeroy Jenkins toward the enemy, blitzkrieging out of the woods from every side seemingly at the same time, their ferociousness magnified not only by their savage blood rage, but by the fact that some of the dudes had taken to painting their entire bodies black with mud to help them hide in the dark forest like how Schwarzenegger hid from the Predator’s infrared vision. It was so damned terrifying that it took every ounce of Roman discipline to not simply spontaneously combust into blood vapor on the spot.

Let me tell you that male aggression is something we cannot afford to have unleashed upon the world a second time! Men cannot control their baser instincts. They have to be controlled for us. The power of the male is a force for evil, bringing destruction on the world.

The other women seemed to think these green eyes made Ari handsome. Carmen thought they looked a little fishlike. But, she was forced to admit, this wouldn’t be the first time the charms of a supposedly handsome man were lost on her.

I make my own chances- Wedge Antilles

Yet they also could not forget the devastating critique of the papacy and the church hierarchy unleashed in the previous century. That critique would surface in the works of the devotio moderna’s most sophisticated offspring, Erasmus of Rotterdam.2 It would reach critical mass in 1517, when the storm over papal indulgences forced these devoted and sober citizens to realize that the Church was either too timid or too arrogant to change, or both. The resulting explosion would be the Reformation. It would knock the schoolmen’s Aristotle off his throne and open a new era for the European mind.

A revolution is always a tragedy, a destructive force unleashed by those stripped of every last option for peace.

He closed his eyes. As he stirred his magic awake, the whites and irises were engulfed by the black of the Sight. He coaxed his power up to the surface of his mind, eyelids flying back open as he unleashed the force of it on his girlfriend. Even from this far away, he could see Loren’s legs shake from the unbridled pleasure he threw onto her. Her knees buckled, and she slipped to the grass, barely catching herself before she could topple down the hill. Darien was impressed that she managed not to drop anything or fall flat to the ground, though her body visibly trembled. He kept his magic going until he was certain she’d fully climaxed before he reined it in, stamping it down to its place of rest. An unholy grin spread across his face.

Do you not understand what a revolution is? A revolution is always a tragedy, a destructive force unleashed by those stripped of every last option of peace. There's not a revolutionary in history who doesn't wish they could've gotten what they wanted within the world order that they knew, but you cannot reform a system designed to keep power out of your hands.