Merlin Arthur Quotes

Merlin, if you don't stop whining, I'm going to take Gwen's sword and beat you to death with it," said Arthur, evenly. "It's plastic." "So it will take me a long time. I'm still game.

And do you know another thing, Arthur? Life is too bitter already, without territories and wars and noble feuds.

The essence of wisdom is to know when to be doing, and when it's useless even to try

Every man carries the seed of his own death, and you will not be more than a man. You will have everything; you cannot have more…

This is beyond understanding." said the king. "You are the wisest man alive. You know what is preparing. Why do you not make a plan to save yourself?" And Merlin said quietly, "Because I am wise. In the combat between wisdom and feeling, wisdom never wins.

The gods do not visit you to remind you what you know already.

I think too many people presume to read the divine Scriptures and fall into such terrors as this,' said Patricius sternly. 'Those who presume on their learning will learn, I trust, to listen to their priests for the true interpretations.' The Merlin smiled gently. 'I cannot join you in that wish, brother. I am dedicated to the belief that it is God's will that all men should strive for wisdom in themselves, not look to it from some other. Babes, perhaps, must have their food chewed for them by a nurse, but men may drink and eat of wisdom for themselves.

[Arthur to Merlin] I'm the Prince of Wales, and you're Welsh. I can do whatever I bloody well like to you.

If you could really see that tree over there," Merlin said, "you would be so astounded that you'd fall over." "Really? But why?" asked Arthur. "It's just a tree." "No," Merlin said, "It's just a tree in your mind. To another mind it is an expression of infinite spirit and beauty. In God's mind it is a dear child, sweeter than anything you can imagine.

It's a stage name," said Arthur, impatiently. "Like Madonna." "No, Madonna's actual name is Madonna," pointed out Merlin. "Oh my God, stop flaunting your Big Gay Knowledge Of Pop,

Morgause laughed as she mounted her horse with some help from a footman. “I see through your protests, Merlin. You are quite amorous of me, I know it.” Merlin looked like he swallowed a frog. “Lady,” he said. “Wise, old lady. Please depart lest I be forced to help you depart.

The Queen of Air and Darkness tilted back her head and laughed. A more ghastly sound I hope never to hear. ‘Do you think I care about these trifles?’ ‘Murder is no trifle, woman,’ Arthur said. ‘No? How many men have you killed, Great King? How many have you slain without cause? How many did you cut down that you might have spared? How many died because you in your battle-rage would not heed their pleas for mercy?’ The High King opened his mouth to speak, but could make no answer.

Thinking and planning is one side of life; doing is another. A man cannot be doing all the time.

[Arthur] "Er... Just how much did you have to drink?" Merlin frowned at Arthur... Both of him.

Only a child expects life to be just; it's a man's part to stand by the consequences of his deeds.

The Emrys! The Emrys is here!' Merlin shook his head in astonishment. 'Has it come to this?' he wondered. 'Even small children know me by sight.

O Merlin", said Arthur, "Here hadst thou been slain for all thy crafts had I not been." "Nay," said Merlin, "Not so, for I could save myself an I would; and thou art more near thy death than I am, for thou goest to the deathward, an God be not thy friend.

Keep that hairy mutt outside the great hall,” Merlin ordered as they made their way to the treasury door. “No.” “You are acting like a child.” “I am a woman masquerading as a 15 year old boy king who makes no decisions about his own kingdom. The least you will allow me to do is to make decisions regarding my pets.” “Fine.

Arthur is no fit king. Uther's bastard, Merlin's pawn, he is lowborn and a fool. He is wanton and petty and cruel. A glutton and a drunkard, he lacks all civilized graces. In short, he is a sullen, ignorant brute. All these things and more men say of Arthur. Let them. When all the words are spoken and the arguements fall exhausted into silence, this single fact remains: we would follow Arthur to the very gates of Hell and beyond if he asked it. And that is the solitary truth. Show me another who can claim such loyalty.

It was Arthur's welcome alone, I believe, which turned the tide of misery for Merlin.

All he had, in fact, was Merlin's shining promise.

Time is the bastard offspring of an incestuous act that God committed upon reality." Merlin to Arthur in "Arthur Rex

The Lady smiled, close-mouthed. "You magicked for Arthur himself, Merlin. The Human part of you has always loved Arthur.

Spend time pondering not what you see,” Merlin advised Arthur, “but why you see it.

Used every man according to his capacity.

Lancelot grasps my face in both palms and holds it tight. “Come back, Bree. Come back to us.” My root has left me. The only thing of my own here, the only thing that kept me safe in this hellscape. “No…” I shake my head. “Please.” Merlin’s voice is nearly unrecognizable. “Come back to us.

Stop, Morgian. Your wiles cannot avail you now.’ He turned to the High King and said, ‘The hurt this woman has done me, I readily forgive. It is for the harm that she has caused others that she is to be judged.

We don't let them die, in Wales--Merlin, and Arthur and Owain--we keep them close by and asleep in the hills to be awakended if ever we need them.

I’m lucky summers are cool here, or this would really be the pits,” Britt muttered, hiking up her pantyhose. (Merlin still insisted they were called chausses. Britt knew better.)

I searched until I panted for breath, but could not find it. The solid stone structure was nowhere to be seen. The house was gone - and Merlin with it.

C'est vrai ce qu'on dit, vous êtes le fils d'un démon et d'une pucelle? Vous avez plus pris de la pucelle. (Arthur à Merlin)

He holds the sword!' shouted Merlin. 'And that has not changed. Whoever would be king must first take the sword from Arthur's hand. For I tell you truly, none among you will be king without it!

Wizards? Do you mean they do things a different way?" "No, just the way we do,"Merlin replied.With a flick of his finger he lit the soggy heap of kindling that Arthur had gathered (...) A blaze leapt up on the instant. Merlin then opened his hands and produced some food out of thin air.

Merlin: "Grown-ups have developed an unpleasant habit lately, I notice, of comforting themselves for their degradation by pretending that children are childish. I trust we are free of this?" Arthur: "Everybody knows that children are more intelligent than their parents." Merlin: "You and I know it, but the people who are going to read this book do not. Our readers of that time (...) have exactly three ideas in their magnificent noodles. The first is that the human species is superior to others. The second, that the twentieth century is superior to other centuries. And the third, that human adults of the twentieth century are superior to their young. (...)

Your faith is admirable, Pelleas. But I know nothing of sorcery. As it is, I have not been able to discover how the spell may be broken or how Merlin may be released from it.

And yet Arthur had Merlin. And Merlin had an idea. And so Arthur listened

I had no desire to have either dreams or adventures like Alice, and the amount of them merely amused me. I had very little desire to look for buried treasure or fight pirates, and Treasure Island left me cool. Red Indians were better: there were bows and arrows (I had and have a wholly unsatisfied desire to shoot well with a bow), and strange languages, and glimpses of an archaic mode of life, and, above all, forests in such stories. But the land of Merlin and Arthur was better than these, and best of all the nameless North of Sigurd of the Völsungs, and the prince of all dragons. Such lands were pre-eminently desirable.

Britt said, standing up. “You know, Merlin, I’m starting to think your magic might be all talk.” “What?” Merlin squawked. “You can’t break Morgause’s enchantment, and you can’t help me understand Gawain. It seems like there isn’t much you can do,” Britt said. “You ungrateful pig-child. Of course I can do magic. Lots of magic! I brought you here didn’t I?” Merlin said.

When I die, never say that I am gone. The sun sets. The moon fades. My body perishes. But my leaving has nothing to do with being gone. I will stay forever with you.

Tell us, Merlin,” said he, “why do we feel no sense of triumph in this?” And Merlin answered, “Well, is not triumph a childish feeling, Sire?

I was going to bring Sir Kay and Gawain with me, but at the last minute Lancelot pushed Kay back.So I had no choice but to bring Lancelot in Kay’s place,” Merlin said, sounding just the smallest bit disgusted. “I find myself gladdened by this news,” Britt said. Merlin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you?” Lancelot beamed. “I am pleased my presence delights you, My Lord.” “It’s not that. Since you kept Kay from coming to get me,in all likeliness that means you are now higher on his list of people to MAIM than I am,” Britt said. Merlin coughed to cover a laugh,

Arthur thought it better to make sure that the scattered Saxon forces could not re-form, at least while he came south for his father's burial." "He is young,"she said, "for such a charge." I smiled. "But ready for it, and more than able. Believe me, it was like seeing a young falcon take to the air, or a swan to the water.

Merlin Speaks: Ô mighty trees of Avalon release sap and seeds into hearts and minds So Arthur’s dream can reveal echoes of futures past So Camelot’s glory is forever ingrained in the rich forests and mountains’ mysterious valleys where a once and future King lowered his sword and lay in the arms of his sweet Lady of Forests and Lakes

the stables. “My Lord,” he said, sketching a bow to Britt. “A guest has just arrived at Camelot. A Royal guest—a lady!” the young boy said, looking horrified. Britt held back a groan, but couldn’t stop her expression of disdain. “Inform the lady I am busy with kingly affairs and send Merlin to greet her.” “Merlin already has greeted her,” the page said, his eyes bulging. “She hit him with a club.” “Never mind, I shall meet this curious lady myself,” Britt said, brushing horse hair from her clothes.

All that winter's day and far into the night the kings twisted and squirmed, but Merlin held them in his iron grasp and would not let go. He became first a rock, and then a mountain in Arthur's defence. Arthur stood equally unmoved. No power on earth could have prevailed against them . . .

It is a child speaking," said Merlin, "not a king and not a knight, but a hurt and angry child, or you would know, my lord, that there is more to a king than a crown, and far more to a knight than a sword. You were a knight when you grappled Pellinore unarmed." "And he defeated me." "You were a knight," said Merlin. "Somewhere in the world there is defeat for everyone. Some are destroyed by defeat, and some made small and mean by victory. Greatness lives in one who triumphs equally over defeat and victory.

His libido,distressingly,didn't seem at all worried about little things like Arthur being an arrogant dick.(Or, to be perfectly,horrifyingly honest,which he had no intention of being, ever, his libido might just possibly rather like Arthur being an arrogant dick. And Merlin might just possibly have had some rather vivid fantasies about Arthur demanding, in that lazily imperious tone, that Merlin get down on his knees and swallow the royal cock. Just possibly.)

Britt Said “I’m glad.” Merlin nodded “If you’re so glad then you should work to win over more of your men.” “Yes, Merlin.” “Don’t you ‘yes, Merlin’ me!” “Of course, Merlin.” “That’s hardly any better.” “You don’t think I know that?” “Harridan.” “I find it amusing that you resort to name calling when you can’t think of anything better to say.” “Only to those who deserve it.” “Yes, Merlin.

And at that moment he saw that Merlin was already standing in the entrance of the tent, and Merlin smiled, for he took joy in causing wonder.

The dead are so long dead,” explained Merlin. “Better to have lived while alive, yes? Besides, if they achieve this, they will have conquered a giant; they will be invincible!

Then I am fundamentally a slave, I whom you call the most glorious king of all?” said Arthur. “No man is free who needeth air to breathe,” said Merlin.

Look, it's all right for you. You don't have to walk along pulling the damned bin while you're wearing a bloody great dress that keeps tripping you up."Arthur made an impatient noise. "Have you seen my outfit? The only difference between what we're wearing is that yours shows more cleavage and mine comes with a beard.""It does not show cleavage!" Merlin exclaimed, temporarily distracted. He squinted down at his chest. "I haven't got any cleavage for it to show!

Also, on account of the odd relationship between time and space, the people who do manage to time-jump sometimes space-jump at the same time and end up in places where they simply don't belong. Over there, for example," he said as a raucous DeLorean sports car rared into view from nowhere, "is that crazy American professorwho can't seem to stay put in one time, and, I must say, there is an absolute plague of of killer robots from the future being sent to change the past. Sleeping there under that banyan tree is a certain Hank Morgan of Hartford, Connecticut, who was accidentally transported one day back to King Arthur's Court, and stayed there until Merlin put him to sleep for 1300 thirteen hundred years. He was suppsoed to wake up back in his own time, but look at this lazy fellow! He's still snoring away, and has missed his slot.

And then, just as I begin to raise my sword to cleave a path to Arthur's side, there comes a sound like a tempest wind - the blast of a mighty sea gale. Men fall back, suddenly afraid. They cover their heads with their arms and peer into the darkness above. What is it? Is the roof falling? The sky? The strange sound subsides and they glance at one another in fear and awe. Merlin is there. The Emrys is standing calmly beside Arthur. His hands are empty and upraised, his face stern in the unnatural silence he has created . . .

Oh, shit," said Arthur, covering his face with his hands for a moment and screwing his eyes shut."You've been co-opted.She's got you spying on me already? My God,she's quick.""Oh, shut up and get over yourself!"exclaimed Merlin, indignantly."Not everything's about you,you know, your Royal Hotness. Highness. I said Highness.

Rest you here, enchanter, while the light fades, Vision narrows, and the far Sky-edge is gone with the sun. Be content with the small spark Of the coal, the smell Of food, and the breath Of frost beyond the shut door. Home is here, and familiar things; A cup, a wooden bowl, a blanket, Prayer, a gift for the god, and sleep. (And music, says the harp, And music.) Rest here, enchanter, while the fire dies. In a breath, in an eyelid's fall, You will see them, the dreams; The sword and the young king, The white horse and the running water, The lit lamp and the boy smiling. Dreams, dreams, enchanter! Gone with the harp's echo when the strings Fall mute; with the flame's shadow when the fire Dies. Be still, and listen. Far on the black air Blows the great wind, rises The running tide, flows the clear river. Listen, enchanter, hear Through the black air and the singing air The music….

Only Merlin and her guards ever woke her in the mornings, and her guards only shouted to her through the doors. Britt picked her head off her pillow. “Merlin?” Merlin, once again standing out in the hallway, hissed through the door.“You’re still in bed.” “Yeah, so?” “It is indecent for you to allow a man into your bedchambers when you are still in bed!” Britt rolled her eyes and sat up. “What did you want?” “Get up. We’re going to mass.” “No, we’re not. You might be, but I’m not.” “Oh yes you are, you little heathen.” “It’s boring. The pastor only talks in Greek or Hebrew or whatever that language is.” “He’s the archbishop, and he conducts the service in Latin.” “Mmm, yeah that,” Britt said, falling back into her bed with a thump. “Do not lie back down you unschooled foundling!” “Too late,” Britt said. “If you want me to go to mass you’re going to have to drag me out of here. How indecent would that be?

If you did die tomorrow…” Merlin’s fingers flew into the air. “I can’t—” “Theoretically,” Val said, gently rolling his eyes. “What would you want people to say about you?” “Once upon a time, he had a very nice beard,” Merlin said. “He was the teacher of forty-two king Arthurs. He never gave in to tyrants.

His very first story, he told me as he was dying, was set in Camelot, the court of King Arthur in Britain: Merlin the Court Magician casts a spell that allows him to equip the Knights of the Round Table with Thompson submachine guns and drums of .45-caliber dumdums. Sir Galahad, the purest in heart and mind, familiarizes himself with this new virtue-compelling appliance. While doing so, he puts a slug through the Holy Grail and makes a Swiss cheese of Queen Guinevere.

I sometimes think,' Merlin said when no more suggestions were offered, 'that I am doomed to live among idiots.

It is not any common earth, Water or wood or air, But Merlin’s Isle of Gramarye That you and I will fare.

Arthur smiled at him and Martin felt like he was standing in a shaft of sun between rustling trees.

Know ye not then the Riddling of the Bards? Confusion, and illusion, and relation, Elusion, and occasion, and evasion?

Over the previous summer, Merlin made the unfortunate discovery that he was fond of Britt.

And then an endless instant later Arthur was kissing him back, like this was perfectly normal, like this was exactly what Arthur had been hoping for most in all the world, his large hands closing over Merlin's shoulders and sliding down over his back, strong and warm even through the fabric of his sweater, one hand pausing on his waist and the other sliding around to cup his arse and pull him in closer. Merlin made a surprised, enthusiastic sound and stopped holding back; let himself cling to Arthur and kiss him more fiercely; and then they were kissing like it was their last day on earth and they had to cram every possible moment of passion into this tiny slice of time, hands clutching at fabric, mouths pressing hungry bites onto bare skin as if they would somehow devour one another, trying to touch and taste everything at once, frantic and needy and bursting with urgent desire and the inescapable knowledge that this was finite, was stolen, was not supposed to be.

Britt Said “I’m glad.” Merlin nodded “If you’re so glad then you should work to win over more of your men.” “Yes, Merlin.” “Don’t you ‘yes, Merlin’ me!” “Of course, Merlin.” “That’s hardly any better.” “You don’t think I know that?” “Harridan.” “I find it amusing that you resort to name calling when you can’t think of anything better to say.” “Only to those who deserve it.” “Yes, Merlin.

Wait for me." It was the same farewell as always. "Wait for me. I shall come back." And as ever, I made the same reply. "What else have I to do but wait for you? I shall be here, when you come again.

Guinevere had never actually attended a Christian church service before. Merlin had no use for the Romans' castoff. But Arthur had taken to it, and Guinevere could see why. Everyone was gathered in the same large wooden building. The ceiling soared overhead. It was simple but elegant. Clean. They all sat on the same level. Everyone listened to the same prayers, performed the same actions. It was an equalizer. And it gave the people something in common with each other. Something to unify them.

There is one person who can save you, sire.’ ‘Who is that?’ ‘Merlin. The great magician. He is the man who made the abbey church of Derby disappear into the earth. He will know how to heal you. He will find a cure.’ ‘Bring him before me. Let him work his magic on my poor bones.

If you could really see that tree over there,” Merlin said, “you would be so astounded that you’d fall over.” “Really? But why?” asked Arthur. “Its just a tree.” “No,” Merlin said. “It’s just a tree in your mind. To another mind it is an expression of infinite spirit and beauty. In God’s mind it is a dear child, sweeter than anything you can imagine.

Hic Jacet Arthurus Rex Quondam Rexque Futurus Arthur is gone…Tristram in Careol Sleeps, with a broken sword - and Yseult sleeps Beside him, where the Westering waters roll Over drowned Lyonesse to the outer deeps. Lancelot is fallen . . . The ardent helms that shone So knightly and the splintered lances rust In the anonymous mould of Avalon: Gawain and Gareth and Galahad - all are dust. Where do the vanes and towers of Camelot And tall Tintagel crumble? Where do those tragic Lovers and their bright eyed ladies rot? We cannot tell, for lost is Merlin's magic. And Guinevere - Call her not back again Lest she betray the loveliness time lent A name that blends the rapture and the pain Linked in the lonely nightingale's lament. Nor pry too deeply, lest you should discover The bower of Astolat a smokey hut Of mud and wattle - find the knightliest lover A braggart, and his lilymaid a slut. And all that coloured tale a tapestry Woven by poets. As the spider's skeins Are spun of its own substance, so have they Embroidered empty legend - What remains? This: That when Rome fell, like a writhen oak That age had sapped and cankered at the root, Resistant, from her topmost bough there broke The miracle of one unwithering shoot. Which was the spirit of Britain - that certain men Uncouth, untutored, of our island brood Loved freedom better than their lives; and when The tempest crashed around them, rose and stood And charged into the storm's black heart, with sword Lifted, or lance in rest, and rode there, helmed With a strange majesty that the heathen horde Remembered when all were overwhelmed; And made of them a legend, to their chief, Arthur, Ambrosius - no man knows his name - Granting a gallantry beyond belief, And to his knights imperishable fame. They were so few . . . We know not in what manner Or where they fell - whether they went Riding into the dark under Christ's banner Or died beneath the blood-red dragon of Gwent. But this we know; that when the Saxon rout Swept over them, the sun no longer shone On Britain, and the last lights flickered out; And men in darkness muttered: Arthur is gone…

She was wearing a tunic. A blue tunic that matched the shade of her eyes and hit her knees. Beneath the tunic, she wore an inner tunic made of linen that stuck to her like a second skin. She also had on hose, or chausses, as Merlin called them. Britt almost laughed in his face when the man explained that instead of wearing pants, men wore drawers, the tunic, and the fitted socks/chausses.

Pourquoi ne l'as-tu pas tué ? me demanda-t-elle. – Il n'y a pas de fatalité. J'en suis la preuve vivante, et je me sens pareil à cet enfant par les origines. De même que je ne puis avoir la certitude d'être le maître absolu de la destinée d'Arthur, tu ne peux non plus espérer contrôler totalement le devenir de ton fils. Ainsi il n'y a pas de fatalité ni dans la création ni dans la destruction, car deux choses échappent aux calculs les plus subtils de la prévoyance : l'âme et le hasard. Et même si tu parviens à faire de cet être un instrument parfait au service de ta haine de l'homme, il ne pourra nuire que si Arthur et ses pairs de la Table Ronde montrent folie ou faiblesse. Et s'ils sont fous ou faibles, qu'importe la cause de leur ruine, car le coupable ne sera pas toi, ni ton fils, mais eux-mêmes.

Take heed, you bear in mind the piety you owe unto your country and unto your fellow countrymen, whose slaughter by the treachery of the Payneham shall be unto your disgrace everlasting. Unless you press hardily forward to defend them. Fight therefore for your country, and if it be that death overtake you, suffer it willingly for your country’s sake. For death itself is victory, and a healing unto the soul.

Dear Merlin, How empty is empty space? ARTHUR LEVY HOUSTON, TEXAS When a rabbit disappears into “thin air” at a magic show nobody tells you the thin air already contains over 10,000,000,000,000,000,000 (ten quintillion) atoms per cubic centimeter. The very best laboratory vacuum chambers have as few as 10,000 atoms per cubic centimeter. Interplanetary space gets down to about 10 atoms per cubic centimeter while interstellar space is as low as 0.5 atoms per cubic centimeter. The award for nothingness, however, must be given to intergalactic space. There it is difficult to find more than 0.0000001 atoms per cubic centimeter. It has been postulated that outside the universe, where there is no space, there is no nothing. We might call this hypothetical region (where we are certain to find multitudes of rabbits) nothing-nothing

I suppose I'm just worried I'll disappoint people," Arthur admitted. "Merlin says I'm going to be a legendary king - I just wish I was confident enough to agree. And now that I know the legend of my reign stretches into other dimensions, it seems impossible that I'll ever live up to those expectations, or worse -" "The expectations you put on yourself?" Alex said, finishing his sentence. Arthur went quiet and nodded. "You too?" "My legacy isn't written in the stars like yours, but when I first became the Fairy Godmother I almost drowned in the expectations other people put on me," Alex said. "I wanted to believe in myself as much as the rest of the world did, so I put so much pressure on myself; I became harshly disappointed every time I made a simple mistake. I felt like I would disappoint the world if I was ever exposed as -" "Human," Arthur said, finishing her sentence this time. "Yes," Alex said. "My biggest fear was disappointing someone, and then after one moment of weakness I ended up disappointing the entire fairy-tale world. I went form being the most beloved person in the Happily Forever After Assembly, to the most feared and hated. But rather than fighting the world that discarded me, I chose to continue saving it. So maybe greatness isn't about being immortal, or glorious, or popular - it's about choosing to fight for the greater good of the world, even when the world's turned it's back on you.

Someone really should write the rest of the story. You know, the cycles that came after the first Arthur? All the way to the end, with your magical sword sticking Nin’s lake into a billion icy bits? Seems like a pretty huge omission if you ask me.” “Actually a pair of twenty-first-century authors came rather close!” Merlin said, skimming through the books and pulling out one with an electric pink, glowing Excalibur on the cover. “They got a few things lopsided, of course. I am a good dancer.

He shifted closer to her, his body solid and radiating heat. "I would never give people a reason to talk about us, or to scorn you. I know we do not have a normal marriage, but I am happy with you by my side. Are you?" "Yes." She did not hesitate. In this moment, the heat of him warming her through, she was perfectly happy. "Good. I want-" He paused. She strained closer, the pause after want hinged with unknown promise. Finally, he spoke again. "I want to get to know you. The real you. We are both here because Merlin wanted it so, but it is time he is no longer between us. We are in this together, Guinevere. I like that.

Indeed," Arthur said. "But ... no one has said I'll be a good king. It would be a relief to know I don't go mad or bad before the end." Alex sighed, but with a smile. She knew Arthur was prying information out of her just to tease her, but two could play this game. "You're a good king, don't worry," she said, and then looked sadly to the ground. "At least you are once you heal from ... the incident." "What incident?" Arthur asked. Alex shook her head somberly. "Well, if Merlin hasn't told you, then I probably shouldn't." "Oh, right - the incident," he said, pretending to know. "Old Merlin's told me about that plenty of times." "Good," Alex said. "So you know all about the leeches." Arthur gulped. "Yes ... I do," he said nervously. "Luckily by then you've already been captured by the Saxons and your legs have been ripped off," Alex said. "So there aren't too many leech wounds." Arthur gulped. "It's the definition of luck," he said. "It's a shame you lose both your arms in the battle before you get captured," Alex said. "But you aren't known as Arthur the Limbless for nothing." "Arthur the Limbless? " "Oh, yes," Alex said. "A lesser king would have let the title belittle him, but you still manage to instill fear in all your enemies. Then again, that could be because of your future wife, Queen Girtha. Of course, Merlin has told you about her ..." "Naturally," Arthur said. "She's that nasty woman, right? So hideous, people are afraid to look at her. Now remind me, how many terrible children do we have?" "Just the one," Alex said. "And who would have expected you to die during childbirth?" "I die in childbirth?" Arthur asked with a quiver in his voice. "How is that possible?" "Isn't that obvious?" Alex asked. "That's why they call your wife Girtha the Strong Handed. Did you never make that connection?" "Oh, that's right," Arthur said. "I made that connection once before, but I forgot about it." "I don't blame you," Alex said. "I would have blocked it out of my mind, too.

What’s this?” He pulled out a folder filled with shiny silver discs. “A whole television show with your name on it! Should we put the lights down low and watch?” Merlin pursed his lips. “Quite fun, in places, that one. I do like the dragon. But, well, they had a tendency to make it seem as if Arthur and Merlin could be love interests, only to pull out at the last possible second.” Val quirked an eyebrow, a double entendre no doubt simmering behind that smirk. When he spoke, it was more frustration than amusement. Ugh, why would anyone do that?” “It was called queerbaiting, Merlin said, the word like a stone in his shoe. “And sadly it was common in that age.” Val made a disgusted face and a retching sound to go with it. Merlin had to agree.

There then followed a period of disturbance and danger. There were many lords in this land who longed to be king, and who were prepared to do battle for the crown of England. So Merlin visited the Archbishop of Canterbury. ‘Call together all the nobles and knights of the realm to London, reverend sir,’ he said to him. ‘Tell them to assemble in the city by Christmas Day, on pain of excommunication. They will witness a miracle, I assure you of that. The king of the universe will on that day declare who is to be king of the realm.’ So the archbishop sent his summons, and the magnates set out for the city in the hope that they might see their new sovereign. They prayed and confessed themselves on their journey, so that they might be all the more pure.

The Glass Castle is also known as the Grail Castle, the pilgrimage place of the Grail knights, troubadours, Merlins, and bards, like Taliesin, who enter within the Grail Gates of her spinning, spiral tower to receive their initiation and rebirth. This is the hero’s journey, to make the pilgrimage into the Womb. King Solomon; Yeshua, descendent of King David; and King Arthur also walked this labyrinth Womb path and experienced the shamanic internment, and symbolic rebirth or resurrection through the Divine Feminine—at-one-ment with the Great Mother. The heroine’s journey is to not only enter the Grail Castle, but to become the Grail Castle; to become both the eternal pilgrim and also the sacred site that the knights and bards make pilgrimage to, to receive their baptism; to become a Magdalene, a magical doorway or womb portal for others.

You men that be known from these others by your Christian profession. Take heed, you bear in mind the piety you owe unto your country and unto your fellow countrymen, whose slaughter by the treachery of the Payneham shall be unto your disgrace everlasting. Unless you press hardily forward to defend them. Fight therefore for your country, and if it be that death overtake you, suffer it willingly for your country’s sake. For death itself is victory, and a healing unto the soul. In as much as he that shall have died for his brethren offers himself as a living sacrifice unto God, nor is it doubtful that herein he follows in the footsteps of Christ, who distained not to lay down his own soul for his breatharian. Who therefore amongst you shall be slain in this battle, unto him shall that death be as full penance and absolution of all his sins, if so be he receive it willingly on this way.

Morgane est le chaos, dit Arthur à Merlin. Un chaos où s'anéantit toute finalité, où le bâtisseur méticuleux et acharné qui a reçu en héritage ce souci impérieux du but se perd avec délices. Morgane est l'obsession des sens qui tue dans la pensée l'obsession du projet. Elle est le présent absolu qui ronge le fragile devenir. Son esprit est un ravage que je voudrais haïr, adorant chaque parcelle de sa chair, la moindre ébauche de son mouvement qui est comme une danse de grave et de mort. Et cependant je vois bien que sa chair n'est que la matière soyeuse et inouïe de son esprit, que les deux sont une seule et même chose et que la séduction de cette enveloppe à quoi rien dans la nature ne peut se comparer n'est que l'interprète harmonieux d'une séduction mille fois plus puissante, née du faste calculé d'une intelligence sublime et pervertie.

Tu as été le Merlin de Nnanji-Arthur. Maintenant, tu peux devenir Aristote, Alcuin ou Imhotep – un ami loyal, un conseiller et, parfois, une conscience. Un sorcier à demeure. Le pouvoir dans l'ombre. — M'écoutera-t-il seulement ? — Il le fera la plupart du temps. Je ne dis pas que ce sera facile, mais il sait que tu connais des choses qu'il ne saura jamais – tout comme il peut faire des choses dont tu ne seras jamais capable. — Nnanji et moi ? Comme une épée : la souplesse et le tranchant de la lame ? — Comme le griffon : un lion et un aigle ! Wallie

Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione and Ginny. ‘All these yours, Arthur?’ ‘Oh, no, only the redheads,’ said Mr Weasley, pointing out his children. ‘This is Hermione, friend of Ron’s – and Harry, another friend –’ ‘Merlin’s beard,’ said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. ‘Harry? Harry Potter?’ ‘Er – yeah,’ said Harry. Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

..Merlin’s life was a map and all roads led to Arthur.

Evil?” Merlin shook his head. “No. They are like humans and dogs and any other creature that lives. Some are good. Some are bad. And some…” he tilted the brim of his hat up. “Want only to live peaceful lives. They have been here for some time, after all, before people, before dogs and horses, before the trees and stones. Some can be quite dangerous when stirred to action, but they are not, all of them, evil.

King Arthur

Shh. There now, the pain will ease,' Arthur said. There was no abashment in him, no fear that his intimacies should be overheard by strangers. The unease belonged to us who trespassed with our eyes and ears. [...] 'Leave the poor man alone, Arthur. For all the gods, let him die in peace.

Without HSPs in positions at the top in a society or organization, the warrior types tend to make impulsive decisions that lack intuition, use power and force abusively, and fail to take into account history and future trends. That’s no insult to them; it is just their nature. (This was the whole point of Merlin’s role in the King Arthur legends; similar figures are in most Indo-European epics.)

Woe unto the red dragon, for his extermination draws near; and his caverns shall be occupied of the white dragon that betokens the Saxons whom you have invited here. The red signifies the race of Briton, that shall be oppressed of the white. Therefore, shall the mountains and the valleys thereof be made level plane and the streams of the valley’s shall flow with blood. The rights of religion shall be done away, and the ruin of the churches be made manifest. At last, she that is oppressed shall prevail, and resist the cruelty of them that came from without. For the bore of Cornwall shall bring sucker and shall trample their necks beneath his feet. The islands of the ocean shall be subdued onto his power, and the forest of goal shall he possess. The house of Romulus shall dread the fierceness of his prowess, and doubtful shall be his end.

What's this?" He pulled out a folder filled with shiny silver discs. "A whole television show with your name on it! Should we put the lights down low and watch?" Merlin pursed his lips. "Quite fun in places, that one. I do like the dragon. But, well, they had a tendency to make it all seem as if Arthur and Merlin could be love interests, only to pull out at the last possible second.

Behold, the astounding verbal exchange between lovers," Merlin said, kissing her cheek.

Now!’ Marvin interjected. ‘You must all be wondering why I invited you here. Well, you know why you’re here, Arthur; and I assume you’ve explained a little about the club to our members—’ ‘We’re looking at alternative truths, right?’ Bedivere asked. ‘The darker side to Britain, and all that.’ ‘Yes, yes, Bedivere, we shall cover that. We shall look at Europe, why we left and why ultimately the EU was disbanded; we shall look at the tragic situation in the United States, and we shall look at the abandonment of the Commonwealth states and the blight of Indonesia. But as well as that we shall also be looking closer to home, at our own histories, and I use the plural intentionally; at the rising rebels in the old Celtic countries, at the redefinition of New National Britain’s borders, and at our absolute ruler himself, George Milton, who thus far has used all his electoral power to claw hold of democratic immunity, whose Party has long since been a change-hand, change-face game of musical chairs with the same policies and people from one party to the next. This brings me to my former point of why I invited you here: because I believe that you three are the smartest, the most open, the most questioning, and that you will benefit most from hearing things from an alternative viewpoint—not always my own, and not always comfortable—that the three of you may one day take what you have learned here and remember it when the world darkens, and this country truly forgets that which it once was.’ There was a deep silence. Even Arthur, who was used to Marvin’s tangential speeches, was momentarily confounded, and in the quiet that followed he observed Bedivere to see what he thought of this side to their teacher. His eyes then slipped to Morgan, and he was surprised to find that she was transfixed. ‘But I must stress to all of you, it is my job at risk in doing this, my life at stake. So when you speak of this, speak only amongst yourselves, and tell no one what it is we discuss here. Understood?’ There was a series of dumbstruck nods of consent. Bedivere cleared his throat with a small cough. ‘And here I thought this was just going to be an extra-curricular history club,’ he joked.

You would argue that we’re not a parasitic life form?’ Arthur challenged. Morgan seemed wounded. ‘Do you think I’m parasitic, Arthur?’ asked Bedivere, his eyebrows raised. ‘No, but—’ ‘How about Gwen?’ he added, teasing. ‘Of course not, I didn’t say that the individual is parasitic, just our current way of life. Consumerism is destroying the planet. No, it has destroyed the planet. Why do you think half the world has starved to death? There’s not enough left to support everyone.’ ‘Says who?’ Morgan snapped. ‘Says common sense.’ He could feel the wine loosening his tongue. ‘People are lying when they say things aren’t that bad. What do you think all those wars were for? We were all just fighting over who got to eat the last éclair.’ Marvin’s stomach growled, and he awkwardly cleared his throat.

I only ever come here to sleep off the cycles,” Merlin admitted, running about to do a lightning round of tidying. “It’s become a bit of a dumping ground for things that came to me over the ages. Though I swear I did clean it up after Arthur 28. Or was it Arthur 29? Please don’t judge!” “Too late,” Val said. I just saw the little crystal bed where you sleep. The collection of nightcaps? Merlin, you have two hundred.” “Have you ever slept for a decade?” Merlin asked. “It requires extreme comfort.

It was an ancient, rusted-out lunchbox, complete with Thermos. The metal was adorned with the image of King Arthur and a very powerful-looking magician with a gnarled staff. “Do you collect your own merchandise, Merlin?

Merlin and his friends emerged into the haze and roar of the most intense festival he had ever seen. And he had, against all odds, gone to Coachella with Arthur 37.

Knowing how to do something is one thing. Knowing if you should do something is what takes time to learn. ~Merlin Arthur Conan Doyle