Jedi Council Quotes

I have, in general, not had fun during my service as a Warden of the White Council. I have taken no enjoyment whatsoever in becoming a soldier in the war with the Vampire Courts. Doing battle with the forces of...I was going to say evil, but I'm increasingly unsure exactly where everyone around me falls on the Jedi-Sith Index.

The Jedi shackle themselves in chains of obedience: obedience to the Jedi Council; obedience to their Masters; obedience to the Republic. Those who follow the light side even believe they must submit themselves to the Force. They are merely instruments of its will, slaves to a greater good.

Is a stronger Force user’s lightsaber stronger, too? What happens when two Jedi fight each other?” “The blade isn’t stronger. Only the Force user’s ability to wield it,” Obi-Wan said. “In ceremonial combat, of course, we’re displaying forms more than actually testing strength—” “But what about non-ceremonial combat?” Fanry persisted. “When two Jedi are on opposite sides of a conflict. What happens?” “It… it doesn’t happen.” The idea made so little sense that Obi-Wan could hardly parse it. “We are members of one Order. We serve the Jedi Council and, through the Council, the Republic. The Jedi are united in this way.” “Well, that’s boring.” Scowling, Fanry kicked her little feet beneath her throne. “And nobody but the Jedi ever uses lightsabers? You’d never fight anyone else who had one? For real, I mean. Not ‘ceremonially.’ ” “The ancient Sith used lightsabers,” Obi-Wan said. “But they’ve been extinct for a millennium. So, no. A Jedi just wouldn’t be involved in a lightsaber duel to the death. It couldn’t happen.” Fanry seemed to realize she was being a bit bloodthirsty, because she smiled impishly and made the next question a joke. “Never?” He smiled back as he shook his head. “Not ever.

In a way, Star Wars could be interpreted as an extended reflection on what might have happened if Jesus had said yes to Satan’s offer. Qui-Gon wants to train Anakin to be a member of the Jedi, a diverse group of humans and other creatures who have a special connection to “the Force” (a kind of cosmic, spiritual energy). He believes that Anakin is “the chosen one,” born to defeat the dark side and restore balance to the Force, but he must convince the Jedi Council. As the council begins to interview Anakin, Yoda (a froglike Jedi with unusual syntax) probes his fear: Yoda: How feel you? Anakin: Cold, sir. Yoda: Afraid are you? Anakin: No, sir. Yoda: See through you we can. Mace Windu: Be mindful of your feelings. Ki-Adi-Mundi: Your thoughts dwell on your mother. Anakin: I miss her. Yoda: Afraid to lose her I think, hmm? Anakin: What has that got to do with anything? Yoda: Everything! Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you.20 Yoda’s words foreshadow the path that will lead Anakin to embrace evil and ultimately become Darth Vader. Nonetheless, many on the council believe Anakin to be the chosen one, spoken of by the prophets, and they allow him to train. In Episode II, Anakin’s fear becomes reality as his mother is kidnapped and killed by the sandpeople. Anakin is filled with rage, and he attacks their village, murdering not only the men but women and children as well. This scene augurs a later, even darker moment in Episode III, when Anakin will slay a gathering of children who are being trained as Jedis. As Yoda predicted, Anakin’s fear has multiplied and born fruit in anger, hate, and suffering.

Excuse me,” someone said, interrupting a lively discussion about whom they’d each buy a drink for in the cantina. The whole line looked up. There were two women standing on the sidewalk with bakery boxes. One of them cleared her throat. “We heard that people were camping out for Star Wars . . .” “That’s us!” Troy said, only slightly less enthusiastically than he’d said it yesterday. “Where’s everybody else?” she asked. “Are they around the back? Do you do this in shifts?” “It’s just us,” Elena said. “We’re the Cupcake Gals,” the other woman said. “We thought we’d bring Star Wars cupcakes? For the line?” “Great!” Troy said. The Cupcake Gals held on tight to their boxes. “It’s just . . .” the first woman said, “we were going to take a photo of the whole line, and post it on Instagram . . .” “I can help you there!” Elena said. Those cupcakes were not going to just walk away. Not on Elena’s watch. Elena took a selfie of their line, the Cupcake Gals and a theater employee all holding Star Wars cupcakes—it looked like a snapshot from a crowd— and promised to post it across all her channels. The lighting was perfect. Magic hour, no filter necessary. #CupcakeGals #TheForceACAKEns #SalaciousCrumbs The Gals were completely satisfied and left both boxes of cupcakes. “This is the first time I’ve been happy that there were only three of us,” Elena said, helping herself to a second cupcake. It was frosted to look like Chewbacca. “You saved these cupcakes,” Gabe said. “Those women were going to walk away with them.” “I know,” Elena said. “I could see it in their eyes. I would’ve stopped at nothing to change their minds.” “Thank God they were satisfied by a selfie then,” Gabe said. His cupcake looked like Darth Vader, and his tongue was black. “I’m really good at selfies,” Elena said. “Especially for someone with short arms.” “Great job,” Troy said. “You’ll make someone a great provider someday.” “That day is today,” Elena said, leaning back against the theater wall. “You’re both welcome.” “Errrggh,” Troy said, kicking his feet out. “Cupcake coma.” “How many did you eat?” Gabe asked. “Four,” Troy said. “I took down the Jedi Council. Time for a little midday siesta—the Force asleepens.

What now?” Plagueis asked the moment Palpatine broke the connection. Sidious shook his head in disbelief. “Valorum somehow managed to persuade the Council to send two Jedi to Naboo.

Only a chair, Obi-Wan kept telling himself. A chair that Qui-Gon never sat in, for a variety of reasons. He’d had a chance to join the Jedi Council, of course, turning it down to remain Obi-Wan’s Master. And then that opportunity never returned, Qui-Gon’s path splitting off into a different direction before being ended abruptly on Naboo.

He was scared because he was worried about you.” Rael shrugged. “That’s another thing the Council’s dead wrong about. They keep sayin’, Oh, the Jedi aren’t allowed to love, and that’s why we’re never supposed to get laid—

The traitorous acts of the Jedi Council don’t have to destroy the kind of future we were meant to lead, brother. Traveling to far away planets, fighting the enemy. Protecting the galaxy. Same mission, just new uniforms. You could once again carry your lightsaber in public… with pride.

I have a Jedi Council to put together. I thought you might help me. We get to spend the day gossiping about our colleagues and calling it work I'm willing. Luke Mara

however, he seethed. Master Nikil Nobil’s decision had cut no less deeply for being delivered by hologram from the other side of the galaxy. “The High Council finds Shigar Konshi unready for Jedi trials.” The decision had shocked him, but Shigar knew better than to speak.

The book felt suddenly heavy in his hands. He set it down carefully upon the workbench and, by the light of his glowrod, he began turning the pages. Every page was filled with handwritten text, and his heart began pounding harder as the various words and phrases caught his attention. Jedi Council…Old Republic…Battle of Naboo…Sith Lords…Jedi Temple…Separatist Movement…Battle of Geonosis…the Clone Wars…

He’s not thinking like a Jedi, Obi-Wan thought ruefully. He’s letting his emotions interfere with our assignment. Obi-Wan wondered if the Jedi Council had made a mistake when they had assigned him and Anakin to protect Padmé, but then it hadn’t been entirely the Council’s decision. It had been Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s idea.

Elzar had always felt uncomfortable attending meetings of the Jedi Council, and today was no exception. To him, the conversations that took place in this chamber in the Jedi Temple always felt too formal, too staid, as if everyone was repressing what they truly felt in obedience to some unspoken rule.

Chancellor Palpatine broke the silence at last. “Anakin, this afternoon the Senate is going to call on me to take direct control of the Jedi Council.” Anakin’s eyes widened. Obi-Wan had said that the Chancellor would be given new powers, but Anakin hadn’t expected anything like this. “The Jedi will no longer report to the Senate?” he asked, not entirely believing it.

I need your help, son, “ Palpatine said. Did I miss something? “What do you mean?” “I fear the Jedi. The Council keeps pushing for more control. They’re shrouded in secrecy and obsessed with maintaining their autonomy—ideals I find simply incomprehensible in a democracy.

I heard about your appointment, Anakin,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.” To her surprise, his expression darkened. “I may be on the Council,” he said angrily, “but they refused to accept me as a Jedi Master.

Bell knew it could be done, and he knew Loden Greatstorm believed he could do it. His master—probably—would not have used the Force to shove him off that obscenely high cliff otherwise. Bell thought the Jedi Council would frown on inadvertent Padawan murder—but he also thought Loden could talk his way out of it, probably by arguing that the Order had no use for a Padawan who couldn’t master something as simple as a controlled descent.

Agreeing to that proposition—sensible though it was—would mean shifting some of the blame onto Obi-Wan, which Qui-Gon preferred not to do. He simply remained quiet. The Jedi Council had a habit of assuming that silence equaled agreement; Qui-Gon had found this habit useful, from time to time.