Liquid Swords Quotes

We find that at present the human race is divided into one wise man, nine knaves, and ninety fools out of every hundred. That is, by an optimistic observer. The nine knaves assemble themselves under the banner of the most knavish among them, and become 'politicians'; the wise man stands out, because he knows himself to be hopelessly outnumbered, and devotes himself to poetry, mathematics, or philosophy; while the ninety fools plod off under the banners of the nine villains, according to fancy, into the labyrinths of chicanery, malice and warfare. It is pleasant to have command, observes Sancho Panza, even over a flock of sheep, and that is why the politicians raise their banners. It is, moreover, the same thing for the sheep whatever the banner. If it is democracy, then the nine knaves will become members of parliament; if fascism, they will become party leaders; if communism, commissars. Nothing will be different, except the name. The fools will be still fools, the knaves still leaders, the results still exploitation. As for the wise man, his lot will be much the same under any ideology. Under democracy he will be encouraged to starve to death in a garret, under fascism he will be put in a concentration camp, under communism he will be liquidated.

I definitely wasn’t cold. I was liquid heat. I was terror and curiosity and denial disguised as indifference.

It was funny the things you noticed before a battle – the dust in the air hanging as if suspended in time. Drale almost wanted to part it with his hands and see what lay beyond. The huge pines cast shadows on the glad above the town and in the calm that descended Drale drew his sword and faced his attackers in a pool of liquid moonlight.

The pen is truly mightier than the sword. Unless you're holding a pen and the other guy's holding a sword.

Two against thirty two,” Niten said. “Good odds.” “I’ve never fought the Spartoi before,” Prometheus admitted. “I only know of them by their reputation—and it’s fearsome.” “We have an equal reputation,” Niten said. “Well, you do,” the Elder said. “I was never that much of a fighter. And after the fall of the island, I rarely took up weapons again.” “Fighting is a skill you never forget,” Niten said, a touch of sadness in his voice. “I fought my first duel when I was thirteen. I’ve been fighting ever since.” “But you are more than just a swordsman,” Prometheus said. “You are an artist, a sculptor and a writer.” “No man is ever just one thing,” Niten answered. His shoulder dropped and his short sword appeared in his left hand, water droplets sparkling from the blade. “But first and foremost, I was always a warrior.” He jabbed his sword into the fog and stirred it like liquid.

I see you have no need of a sword.” “Very difficult, these days, to get them through security,” she pointed out without changing expression. “You’re extremely accurate with that weapon.” “With all weapons. My father was an exacting man.” “You’re a very dangerous woman, Azami Yoshiie.” Sam meant it as an admiring compliment. One eyebrow raised. Her mouth curved and she flashed a heart-stopping smile. “You have no idea how dangerous.” She said his own words right back to him and he believed her. “And you’re as adept with a sword as you are with your other weapons?” he asked curiously. “More so,” she admitted with no trace of bragging—simply stating a fact. “I said so, didn’t I?” Sam turned on his heel and strode toward her purposefully. “I’m about to kiss you, Ms. Yoshiie. I’m fully aware I’m breaching every single international law of etiquette there is, and you might, rightfully, stick that knife of yours in my gut, but right at this moment I don’t particularly give a damn.” Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move. He’d known she wouldn’t. She was every bit as courageous as any member of his team. She would stand her ground. Thorn moistened her lips. “It might be your heart,” she warned truthfully. “Still, I have no choice here. I really don’t. So pull the damn thing out and be ready.” She felt her body go liquid with heat, a frightening reaction to a woman of absolute control. “If you’re going to do it, you’d best make it really good, because it very well might be the last thing you ever do. I have no idea how I’ll react. I’ve never actually kissed anyone before.

His eyes flickered with amusement, reflecting sunlight and shade. The rough beard on his chin gave him a wild, dangerous look. Stiffly, she lifted herself onto her toes, bracing a hand against his shoulders. He was steel beneath her grasp. Did he have to watch her so intently? She closed her eyes. It was the only way she would have the courage to do this. Still he waited. It would be a brief meeting of lips. Nothing to be afraid of. If only her heart would remember to keep beating. Holding her breath, she let her lips brush over his. It was the first time she’d ever kissed a man and her mind raced with it. She hardly had a sense of his mouth at all, though the shock of the single touch rushed like liquid fire to her toes. Her part of the bargain was fulfilled. It could be done and over right then. Recklessly, after a moment’s hesitation, she touched her lips once again to him. This time she lingered, exploring the feel of him little by little. His mouth was warm and smooth and wonderful, all of it new and unexpected. He still hadn’t moved, even though her knees threatened to crumble and her heart beat like a thunder drum. Finally he responded with the barest hint of pressure. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers. Without thinking, she let her fingers dig into the sleek muscle of his arms. A low, husky sound rumbled in his throat before he wrapped his arms around her. Heaven and earth. She hadn’t been kissing him at all. The thin ribbon of resistance uncoiled within her as he took control of the kiss. His stubble scraped against her mouth, raking a raw path of sensation through her. She could do nothing but melt against him, clutching the front of his tunic to stay on her feet. A delicious heat radiated from him. His hands sank low against the small of her back to draw her close as he teased her mouth open. His breath mingled with hers for one anguished second before his tongue slipped past her lips to taste her in a slow, indulgent caress. A sigh of surrender escaped from her lips, a sound she hadn’t imagined she was capable of uttering. His hands slipped from her abruptly and she opened her eyes to see his gaze fixed on her. ‘Well,’ he breathed, ‘you do honour your bets.’ Though he no longer touched her, it was as if the kiss hadn’t ended. He was still so close, filling every sense and thought. She stumbled as she tried to step away and he caught her, a knowing smile playing over his mouth. Her balance was impeccable. She never lost her footing like that, just standing there. His grip tightened briefly before he let her go. Even that tiny, innocent touch filled her with renewed longing. In a daze, she bent to pick up her fallen swords. Her pulse throbbed as if she had run a li without stopping. In her head she was still running, flying fast. ‘Now that our bargain is settled…’ she began hoarsely ‘…we should be going.’ To her horror her hands would not stop shaking. Brushing past him, she gathered up her knapsack and slung it over her shoulder. ‘You said the next town was hours from here?’ He collected his sword while a slow grin spread over his face. She couldn’t look at him without conjuring the feel and the taste of him. Head down, she ploughed through the tall grass. ‘A good match,’ she attempted. He caught up to her easily with his long stride. ‘Yes, quite good,’ he replied, the tone rife with meaning. Her cheeks burned hot as she forced her gaze on the road ahead. She could barely tell day from night, couldn’t give her own name if asked. She had to get home and denounce Li Tao. Warn her father. She had thought of nothing else since her escape, until this blue-eyed barbarian had appeared. It was fortunate they were parting when they reached town. When he wasn’t looking she pressed her fingers over her lips, which were still swollen from that first kiss. She was outmatched, much more outmatched than when they had crossed swords.

The earliest surviving manuscript containing Artephius’ ‘Ars Sintrillia’ is from the seventeenth century, titled ‘Artetti ac Mininii Apologia in Artem Magicam’ under the heading ‘De Scientia Praeteritorum Praesentium ac Futuorum’. This describes the use of three vases of different materials filled with water, wine and oil in which there are semi-precious stones. These are arranged in several ways with candles, and by the reflection of the rays of the sun, moon and stars into the liquids from several instruments, including a sword, make possible various kinds of divination, especially knowledge of the past, present and future

Kai’s black smoke poured from him and clouded the room in a mist so dark that I knew it would make it hard for them to see us. I reached inside myself, embracing my own powers, and I coaxed them forward. I felt for the elements around me, tasting the ash on my tongue from the lanterns burning near the guards, and drew it in.  My lungs filled with their smoke, and I let it consume me until I could hardly breathe. Only then did I draw back my arm, and the air around me hummed with energy. One of the guard’s swords whirred past my ear as he lunged at me, but I didn’t falter. The air around me crackled, and I grabbed his blade in my hand, the metal beginning to turn to liquid in my hold before I jerked it from his grasp and slammed the hilt into his stomach. The guard fell to the ground, his dazed eyes looking up at me, but I was already moving on to the next.

You take one step toward her and I’m going to fry myself up some Alpha.” Roth’s voice was low and deadly calm. “Extra-crispy style.” One Alpha stepped back, but Bob looked like he would blow a gasket. “You dare to threaten us?” “I dare a lot more than that.” Roth’s skin seemed to thin, his face becoming sharp angles. “I will not stand for one hair on her head to be harmed. If you want her, you’re going to have to come through me.” Bob smiled widely at that, and my stomach plummeted. Roth was bound and determined to get himself killed because of me. He’d sacrificed himself to the pits, come back from that, and then gone against his Boss and saved my life. There was no way I could allow him to stand between me and danger again. “Stop!” I broke free of Zayne’s hold, but Thumper shifted. His tail swung back, stopping not even an inch from my hips. I could go no further. My panicked gaze darted from Roth to the Alphas. “Whatever problem you have, you have it with me. Not them. So can we—” Even as I spoke, Bob the Alpha moved toward Roth, lifting the fiery sword, and Thumper didn’t like that. Rearing back, he stretched out his long neck and opened his mouth, revealing fist-size fangs. The scent of sulfur increased, and then a burst of fire shot out of Thumper’s mouth. A pain-filled shriek ended abruptly, and where Bob once stood was just a charred pile of ashes. Everyone stood perfectly still. No one spoke or even appeared to breathe. And then, “Make that extra-extra-crispy style,” Roth said, studying the mess. My knees went weak as I lifted my hands helplessly. Thumper spun on the other Alpha. There was a series of sickening crunches, and then the dragon looked over its shoulder, its golden eyes finding mine as it opened its mouth. A shimmery blue liquid stained its teeth as it huffed out a sound that really sounded like a throaty chuckle. Bambi had eaten a Warden. Thumper had eaten an Alpha. These familiars were really low on manners.