Martial Arts Girl Quotes

When I was growing up, my mother enrolled me into the same classes as my brother so I learned karate, kung fu, and swimming. She also took us fishing, skateboarding, and to martial arts films. Needless to say, my mom was and still is cool. - Strong by Kailin Gow

You learned several forms of martial arts." "yes, and for the most part, because I was doing something physical and most of my instructors enjoyed what they were doing, it was fun. Later, as I got older and they were serious about training me, I was faster than the instructors, and some of them would get angry." "Honey, that's entirely understandable. You're barely five feet tall, and you can't weigh a hundred pounds. To make matters worse, you're a girl. Kicking some man's butt is not ladylike.

I may seem smaller than I look, but what people don't know about me is that I once weight-lifted my own weight when I was in high school, ran more miles than anyone else in Physical Education in my class in high school, and was trained by a Shaolin Kung Fu monk while being the only girl in class. I am also trained in archery and firearms. So when it comes to being physically small or petite and even looking like a girly girl; it doesn't matter. I am strong. I am awared and disciplined. And I can leverage the playing field because I am trained. - Kailin Gow in Strong by Kailin Gow

Marrying Gretchen is a good idea, darling; I would enjoy bringing her up. Teaching her to shoot, helping her with her first baby, coaching her in how to handle a knife, working out with her in martial arts, all the homey domestic skills a girl needs in this modern world.

Okay boy's and girls, let's learn how to fight." -Sergeant Til

She did not belong in the 18th Arrondissement. This was where good girls went to die.

Go ahead, you guys. I'm not done with Kim yet." Braden made annoying kissing noises while Michelle giggled. "Fine with me," Kim said. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. Sweat glistened on the tight muscles of his chest. Standing under the orange glow of the setting sun, he looked like a golden statue brought to life. "That's not fair." I struggled to swallow past the sudden dryness of my tongue. "That's distracting." He flashed me a grin that ignited a fire low inside me. "That would be the point. Call it a tactical move." Braden used the tree to pull himself up. "Well, boys and girls, I think it's time we moved along. This fight is about to lose its PG-13 rating." Michelle nudged him in the side. "I think it's cute." Something prickled on the back of my neck and I turned to find Quentin staring at me with a look between confusion and pain. As I tried to decipher its meaning, Kim used that moment to snatch my wrist and twist it behind my back. He pulled me in, pinning me against his chest, and lowered his head to place a kiss just below my ear. "I may need to take notes." Braden pretended to open an invisible notebook. "So, what do you call this martial arts style, Kim? Kung fu-ling around? How about jujits-you-some?

[t]here's no need to be breaking balls here ... because there are no men here, which is why we come across as serene to you, we can just be ourselves, reclaiming the Feminine Divine, connecting to and protecting Mother Earth, sharing our resources, making decisions communally but maintaining our privacy and autonomy, self-healing the female body and psyche with yoga, martial arts, walking, running, meditation, spiritual practice ... whatever works for each one of us ...

Advika poured out her heart and told what modern mentality was according to her- "Modern mentality people-treat girls and boys equally, don’t promote the dowry givers and takers, believe in spending money for girls future for making her independent and not to save the same for her marriage’s dowry, believe in teaching guys “Real Man-Do Cry” to help them pour out there emotions so that they do not become heart patients or beat up their wife in anger in frustration of not able to express their emotions, “People who cry are not weak; weak are those who cannot cry.” To teach men to control themselves when a girl passes by and to teach those men do not make a girl cry. To teach girls to become self-reliant and not to depend on men to save their life, by learning martial arts and self-defense they too can save their life. And by removing cast boundaries, accepting each other’s uniqueness, treating female equal to male in all terms.” will definitely make you modern one day.

So let it be said again, I love Martial Arts – all of them. They all have beneficial aspects and bring so much happiness to the people that practice them. X art is not better than Y art, (they are just different) and no style is without value. Except Capoeira you big bunch of dancing girls. (Just kidding)

Um, no. The thought of handling a gun terrifies me." Sam burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" "You." "What?" Sam snorted. "You're scared of a gun, but you love karate, even when it wipes you out. You're a walking contradiction, girl." "Guns kill people, Sam." "No, people kill people. Guns are just a vehicle for those types. So are knives. And ropes. And even plastic bags. And yep, even martial arts." "I'm not going to kill anybody. Stop being morbid." Sam snorted again, "I didn't say you were. I was just pointing out that people associate guns with violence but not martial arts. Both can be just as deadly." "True. Guess I never thought about it that way.

As she left the cold arena Angel had to laugh, Beaten by that of a wisp girl and her subliming cunning craft. —Jove lay silent in his orbit; brooding, deep, dreamless forweep, And faithful dog Sirius rising tracked behind on dusk’s purpling adeep. Scratched he his chin; counted the cold and early evening stars, He had miles to go that night, they being so very far. Only the music of the wint’ring span, Vanished he away in the shimmering land. . . . . . .

Rooms were set aside for bookbinding and herb mixing and broadsword training and hand-to-hand combat practice. The Sisters were skilled in all known languages, astronomy, the art of poisons, dance, metallurgy, martial arts, decoupage, and the finer points is assassinry.

Governments cannot ensure the safety of women, law enforcement cannot ensure the safety of women, the only people who can are the women themselves, so destroy all expectations from law, policies and politics my brave sisters, and become your own defense - learn about the human anatomy, make martial arts a part of your life and teach your daughters the same, for I am ashamed to say this but I must, we are yet to become a civilized society - so if and when the unfortunate moment arrives that some misogynist buffoon makes a pass without consent, you will be able to not only defend your own dignity, but also teach him a lesson never to forget - the lesson of not just respect, but civilized human behavior.

Garden of the Dragons (The ’Halla, Vol. # 3) Chapter Ten Excerpt (original editing) ... Hachiman, surveys he the woe, Wipes his brow, hate does flow. A ruined life, heh, a loss of face, He must have her now, to his disgrace (Wed to Kari now, locked in time and place). Battle over, moon still shines, Lilies float soft in quiet time. Scented visions and memories sear remains, Of this terrible night of what was feigned. Visuals lithe, of sword and blade, Disguise the carnage and the pain. Petals soft, they hide our gaze, And cover the ground and its grave. Flowers and moon in water light, T'winkills the calm of a zen-burst night. Now to life, the poem to seek repose, And bury beneath those riddles she holds. Nectars sweet, precious flowers, A fragranted grave that allures and empowers. Heart~beat, heart~beat, tells the way, Of things long remembered and a far lost day. How many memories, Kari knew, That stain with age, being so few. Samurai remembers - feels it as a man, Clutches he his fist; wind in hand. . . . ". . .I have searched for you a very long time." "Do not waste breath, kill. It is our way here." "Not before I have my say, Corpse-eater." "No wonder you took so long to find me." "I have had a lot of time for thought," quietly he, "- T'is a shame we could not agree." "No more room for that," forcefully he snapped, "You dishonored me twice and now, I will take one back." "- Not enough? Hachi," said cordially she, "If you are going to - cut the artery, please." Tilt she her neck, exposed but her vein, Samurai frowned, decidedly vain. Looked he at his hands - "They're already too bloody for today." "Hummph. Such trite man'ers are atrocious. For yourself you are much too engaged." ("Yet, a moment and it is done," thought he, "But to gain it thus, a hollow travesty. I must face her in all her strength, The bladed Valkyrie, the one called great"). "I could kill you now, but I'd rather not, This room is too unbecoming for the proper job." "Charmed that you still think so highly of me." "- Only then of your haunted beauty, I shall be free." Feeling that weight, slowly dropped he his blade, Time enough - rituals to cleanse and to pray. Tossed his sword, pined her down - Smooshed her face to the floor, Pinching it to a frown. "Oh no, my little angel, you have it all wrong! I mean only to kill you when you are strong. Do not fear, I won't let anyone harm you in strife, In the meantime, try not to flirt with your life. Stay healthy - then we shall settle our love, unrequite." A biting grin creased Samurai's scarved face, "Let us fix it properly, according to my r'ace." "Bushido," mouthed Kari, her voice empty as the word. "And there will be no running away this time - Rest assured." Slowly withdrew he and left the room, "Bastard," spit Kari, caustic of his doom. The girl breathing vexiously, then calmly in the dark, The door closed, silent, the light dribbling out. Sounds below, drip mute in time, Reality presses, she makes her fate thind. And Skuld drinking, contemplates she her sibylline, It was her hour now, the night of the wolverine.

traditional weapons of the samurai Dim Mak Death Touch doku poison dōshin Edo-period police officers of samurai origin (low rank) endan ninja smoke bombs fugu blowfish or puffer fish Fuma Wind Demons gaijin foreigner, outsider (derogatory term) geisha a Japanese girl trained to entertain men with conversation, dance and song haiku Japanese short poem hamon artistic pattern created on a samurai sword blade during tempering process hashi chopsticks horagai conch-shell trumpet horoku a spherical bomb thrown by hand using a short rope itadakimasu let’s eat! kagemusha a Shadow Warrior kamikaze lit. ‘divine wind’, or ‘Wind of the Gods’ kanji Chinese characters that are used also by the Japanese katana long sword ki energy flow or life force (Chinese: chi) kiai literally ‘concentrated spirit’ – used in martial arts as a shout for focusing energy when executing a technique kimono traditional Japanese clothing kissaki tip of sword koban Japanese oval gold coin

So... you wish to know the prophecy?” Goro, the village elder of the tiny village, turned a shrewd gaze upon the fox girl

before him, assessing her with an intense stare. His scrutinizing gaze suggested he wanted to know the girl's true nature—her strengths, her weaknesses, the yin and yang coiled within. “And why,” he asked, his voice gravelly from age yet full of unyielding determination, “should I entrust you with that information?” Kitsune, the fox-girl, tilted her head, letting out a soft chuckle. “Did I not just help you retrieve your ancestral spirit?” she replied with a slight edge to her tone, impatient with the village elder's skepticism. She gestured at the floating ancestral spirit patrolling the village. It wandered around, a translucent man from the waist up, a plume of smoke from the waist down. The spirits

guarded villages from nighttime oni and yokai that tried to cause harm. Goro's stern face transformed into a frown. He turned to the pillager next to him, Sota, silently seeking the defender's opinion. The pillager had been the one to defend the village while the ancestral spirit was missing. Sota returned the look, eyes flickering back and forth between Goro and Kitsune. The judgment they exchanged felt like an invisible tug of war. Refusing to be intimidated, Kitsune stood her ground, meeting their gazes unflinchingly. Even if she did feel twitchy. At least a little. Goro gave a dismissive shrug, eyeing the girl carefully, like she might spontaneously combust. “Are you a ninja? Like that

are a ninja, but you do not make us kowtow.” He lifted an eyebrow at the girl. Kitsune sneered. “I’m not like those ninjas. People don’t need to bow and scrape simply because I'm a ninja. I’ll never be like them. Everyone deserves to live their lives, not cower in fear.” Goro looked at her again with that penetrating gaze before giving a nod and a bow from the waist. “Welcome then, Kitsune, ninja of the...” “Fox clan,” Kitsune finished. Goro frowned, then shook his head, as if ridding himself of the look of disdain, replacing it with a smile. “Of course. Welcome, Kitsune of the Fox clan. You helped Jack retrieve the spirit orb and thus have

LaForche's never-was has-never been emaciated spirit was now as it had always been, hole’ up by vapidity and things intangible. Yet it looked so common and ordinary, blenting into the masses using the trogs as a mask to hide itself (later Christina recalled Thomas saying that the sleuth Man said there was nothing unnatural like the common, and the detective was right. “The Fork” was a four-star pronged pointless entity, a spirit without form or life, except now it was evident, his external body displaying to all the leftovers of his empty writhing, splastic visage. Short of sheet and simply put, the girl had out-foiled him—. With the wolves of humiliation tearing the meat right off of his soul, he continued in his loner power mongering ways. Once formidable, they now reeked of rancid mal-diminishment. This is all he had left–and knew it, an armload of empty conquests, but the prize, the one he had desired and wanted so much, had eluded his hounding dogmatic futile, empty and sterile grasp. The power of powerlessness tonned his shoulders, gashing him and his god of pride apart. He shot a quick glarance toward the wall phone thinking of “The Bix,” Kerta’s # 1 Ace problem solving “mechanic.” --OnFelipe LaForche , Villain The lady and the Samurai