Oath Of Vengeance Quotes

Vengeance burns,Torak." said Fin-Kedinn as the river bore him away. "It burns your heart. It makes the pain worse. Dont let that happen to you.

No oath is worth your life. No amount of vengeance is worth your happiness. I'll let the past burn to ash, Freya, because you are my present. My future. My destiny." He lifted his other hand to cup my face. "I love you.

Ay! Louder, Vengeance, much louder, and still she will scarcely hear thee. Louder yet, Vengeance, with a little oath or so added, and yet it will hardly bring her. Send other women up and down to seek her, lingering somewhere; and yet, although the messengers have done dread deeds, it is questionable whether of their own wills they will go far enough to find her!

No oath is worth your life. No amount of vengeance is worth your happiness. I’ll let the past burn to ash, Freya, because you are my present. My future. My destiny.” He lifted his other hand to cup my face. “I love you.

He trails off, glancing sideways at Silas. “He’s about to attack your wall.” I look over in time to see Silas dig the crystal into his hand, lifting it as he glares at the wall with a vengeance. What the fuck is wrong with him?

From time to time our national history has been marred by forgetfulness of the Jeffersonian principle that restraint is at the heart of liberty. In 1789 the Federalists adopted Alien and Sedition Acts in a shabby political effort to isolate the Republic from the world and to punish political criticism as seditious libel. In 1865 the Radical Republicans sought to snare private conscience in a web of oaths and affirmations of loyalty. Spokesmen for the South did service for the Nation in resisting the petty tyranny of distrustful vengeance. In the 1920's the Attorney General of the United States degraded his office by hunting political radicals as if they were Salem witches. The Nation's only gain from his efforts were the classic dissents of Holmes and Brandeis. In our own times, the old blunt instruments have again been put to work. The States have followed in the footsteps of the Federalists and have put Alien and Sedition Acts upon their statute books. An epidemic of loyalty oaths has spread across the Nation until no town or village seems to feel secure until its servants have purged themselves of all suspicion of non-conformity by swearing to their political cleanliness. Those who love the twilight speak as if public education must be training in conformity, and government support of science be public aid of caution. We have also seen a sharpening and refinement of abusive power. The legislative investigation, designed and often exercised for the achievement of high ends, has too frequently been used by the Nation and the States as a means for effecting the disgrace and degradation of private persons. Unscrupulous demagogues have used the power to investigate as tyrants of an earlier day used the bill of attainder. The architects of fear have converted a wholesome law against conspiracy into an instrument for making association a crime. Pretending to fear government they have asked government to outlaw private protest. They glorify "togetherness" when it is theirs, and call it conspiracy when it is that of others. In listing these abuses I do not mean to condemn our central effort to protect the Nation's security. The dangers that surround us have been very great, and many of our measures of vigilance have ample justification. Yet there are few among us who do not share a portion of the blame for not recognizing soon enough the dark tendency towards excess of caution.

Even the stars need darkness to shine, Comoară. Sometimes we need the lights off and to feel lost in order to find our own path out. That path can never be wrong when it’s the path your soul leads you down.

The Retainers are bound to the Checquy through a variety of means. Legal contracts. Religious oaths. Oaths of fealty. Penalties under the Official Secrets Act. Penalties under various unofficial secrets acts. Vaguely worded threats of nebulously horrible vengeance. People don’t learn the real secrets of the Checquy until they’re a part of the group, and then they can’t get out. Of course, there’s no real reason why they would want to. They’re doing good and earning well, and we provide an excellent and understanding staff of therapists.

more than not being harmed in the first place. And if there were actually reconciliations under oath, they occurred because of both sides’ lack of alternatives and lasted only as long as neither found some other source of power. The one who first recovered his confidence at the right moment, when he saw the other off guard, enjoyed vengeance more in a situation of trust than if accomplished openly; the element of safety was an asset, and because of prevailing through deception he also won the prize for intelligence. As a rule, men are more easily called clever when they are scoundrels than virtuous when ignorant—and are

And the observance of his five commandments will bring peace upon the earth. They all have but one object,—the establishment of peace among men. If men will only believe in the doctrine of Jesus and practise it, the reign of peace will come upon earth,—not that peace which is the work of man, partial, precarious, and at the mercy of chance; but the peace that is all-pervading, inviolable, and eternal. The first commandment tells us to be at peace with every one and to consider none as foolish or unworthy. If peace is violated, we are to seek to re-establish it. The true religion is in the extinction of enmity among men. We are to be reconciled without delay, that we may not lose that inner peace which is the true life (Matt. v. 22-24). Everything is comprised in this commandment; but Jesus knew the worldly temptations that prevent peace among men. The first temptation perilous to peace is that of the sexual relation. We are not to consider the body as an instrument of lust; each man is to have one wife, and each woman one husband, and one is never to forsake the other under any pretext (Matt. v. 28-32). The second temptation is that of the oath, which draws men into sin; this is wrong, and we are not to be bound by any such promise (Matt. v. 34-37). The third temptation is that of vengeance, which we call human justice; this we are not to resort to under any pretext; we are to endure offences and never to return evil for evil (Matt. v. 38-42). The fourth temptation is that arising from difference in nationalities, from hostility between peoples and States; but we are to remember that all men are brothers, and children of the same Father, and thus take care that difference in nationality leads not to the destruction of peace (Matt. v. 43-48).

Images of a pale dragon caged and raging, locked within a chamber among the roots of a great tree. A wolf upon a plain, a thick chain binding him, small figures swarming, stabbing, the wolf’s jaws wide as it howled. “Ulfrir, wolf-god,” Kráka breathed. “It’s the Guðfalla,” Biórr whispered. “The gods-fall.” So many images, Elvar struggled to take it all in: figures hanging from the boughs of trees, many of them, skeletal wings spiking from their backs. “The Gallows Wood,” Elvar said. She remembered that tale, of how the gods Orna and Ulfrir had found their firstborn daughter slain, her wings hacked from her back. Lik-Rifa had done it, the dragon, Orna’s sister. As vengeance Orna and Ulfrir had hunted Lik-Rifa’s god-touched offspring and slaughtered them. Ripped their backs open and hacked their ribs apart, pulling them out in a parody of wings and hanging the corpses from trees. The blood-eagle, it was now called. The first blood feud, Elvar thought. The images went on and on, telling the tale of the gods at war: Berser the bear, Orna the eagle, Hundur the hound, Rotta the rat, many, many more; and Snaka, father, maker, coiling about them all, glowing venom dripping from his fangs as he entered the blood-fray and consumed his children. “I thought all of the oath stones had been destroyed,” Sighvat said. “We are on the arse-end of the world,” Agnar said. “This one has survived.” He was still staring up at the huge slab, eyes following the glowing lines as they traced the images. “So, that is where your bloodline comes from,” Agnar said to Berak in his chains. He pointed to an image of a giant bear, jaws wide, spittle spraying. Berak said nothing, just glowered at the image. “They are the fathers and mothers of all us Tainted,” Kráka said. “Snaka loved his creations, when he was not feasting on them, and so did his children.” She stared at the serpent-coils that spiralled across the granite. “Why did they fight?” Sighvat muttered. “What started this war, led to the near-destruction of all?” “Jealousy and murder,” Uspa said. “Blood feud. Lik-Rifa the dragon thought her sister was plotting her death, and Rotta the rat fuelled her paranoia. She murdered Orna and Ulfrir’s daughter, created the vaesen in secret, would have used them to destroy Orna and all those who supported her. But Orna found out and lured Lik-Rifa into the caverns and chambers deep within the roots of Oskutreð, the great Ash Tree, and with her siblings bound Lik-Rifa there. That is what caused the war.

D: "I may not be the easiest person to care for, but what you never need to worry about is if our bond is a facade or not. It is the single most pure thing in my life that I will guard and nurture like my most prized possession because it is. You are my Comoară." A: "What does that mean?" D: "It means my treasure in Romanian. Oh, be still my fucking heart.

Here's a notion, Your Highness," I said, pointing at him with one dagger. "Did you ever think that maybe I never quite forgave you for stealing her away from me all those years ago?" "We are way past that, Puck." Ash's voice was soft; he hadn't drawn his weapon or even put a hand on his blade, but his whole posture was stiff. "Really?" I sneered. "How long did you try to kill me after Ariella died, Ash? How many years?" I swept my other weapon up, pointing at the towers of the Iron Palace looming overhead. "More than the years you've spent with Meghan, that's for damn sure. And for what?" Reaching up, I hooked two fingers in my collar and yanked it down, revealing a thin white gash across my collarbone. "This is yours, ice-boy," I spat at him. "Remember that? I have more than a few scars from the times you almost killed me, because you swore an oath of vengeance over a girl. Do you ever think about that? Do you ever think that maybe I was just as angry as you when I lost the one I loved? So, don't tell me we're past it, Your Highness. You know as well as I do, we're fey. Grudges last a lifetime with us.

Yet the prize now was not just a blood oath but a kingdom—a shot at vengeance and rebuilding their world. Aedion made to walk away, but looked back. Just two cloaked figures, one hunched, the other tall and armed. The first shred of Aelin’s court. The court he’d raise for her to shatter Adarlan’s chains. He could keep playing the game—for a little longer.

Mombasa, too, furnished with such Palaces and sumptuous houses, Will be laid waste with iron and fire In payment for its former treachery. Along the Indian coast, swarming With enemy ships plotting Portugal's Downfall, Lourenço with sail and with oar Will give his uttermost, and then give more. Though the powerful Samorin's giant ships Choke the entire sea, his cannon-shot Thundering from hot brass Will pulverize rudder, mast, and sail; Then, daring to grapple the enemy Flagship, watch him leap On deck, armed only with lance and sword, To drive four hundred Muslims overboard. But God's inscrutable wisdom (He knows Best what is best for his servants) Will place him where neither strength nor wisdom Can avail in preserving his life. In Chaul, the very seas will churn With blood, fire, and iron resistance, As the combined fleets of Egypt and Cambay Confront him with his destiny that day. The united power of many enemies (Might was defeated only by might), Faltering winds and a swelling sea Will all be ranged against him. Here, let ancient heroes rise To learn from this scion of courage This second Scaeva who, however maimed, Knows no surrender and will not be tamed. With one thighbone completely shattered By a wayward cannon-ball, still He battles on with his forearms alone And a heart not to be daunted, Until another ball snaps the ties Binding flesh and spirit together: The leaping soul slips its body's prison To claim the greater prize of the arisen. Go in peace, O soul! After war's Turbulence, you have earned supreme peace! As for that scattered, broken body, He who fathered it plans vengeance. Already, I hear their hot perdition Looming in a thunderous barrage On Mameluke and cruel Cambayan From catapult, from ordnance and cannon. Here comes the father, magnified By his anger and grief, his heart On fire, his eyes swimming, his soul Transfixed by paternal love. He has taken an oath his noble rage Will make blood run knee-high In the enemy ships; the Nile will mourn, The Indus witness, the Ganges be forlorn.

The Amalekites were not ignorant of God’s character or of his sovereignty, but instead of fearing before him, they had set themselves to defy his power. The wonders wrought by Moses before the Egyptians were made a subject of mockery by the people of Amalek, and the fears of surrounding nations were ridiculed. They had taken oath by their gods that they would destroy the hebrews, so that not one should escape, and they boasted that Israel’s God would be powerless to resist them. They had not been injured or threatened by the Israelites. Their assault was wholly unprovoked. It was to manifest their hatred and defiance of God that they sought to destroy his people. The Amalekites had long been high-handed sinners, and their crimes had cried to God for vengeance, yet his mercy had still called them to repentance; but when the men of Amalek fell upon the wearied and defenseless ranks of Israel, they sealed their nation’s doom. The care of God is over the weakest of his children. No act of cruelty or oppression toward them is unmarked by heaven. Over all who love and fear him, his hand extends as a shield; let men beware that they smite not that hand; for it wields the sword of justice.

Homer % relating them in a divinely infpired manner (grOgar'^^o^O' ^^^^ ^^^^ thofc who have often finned, and committed the greateft crimes^ are punifhed for their offences according to the fmgle will of Jupiter, and are deprived of life together with* their wives and children'. Ho further informs u<^, that Jupiter firfl of all accompliflies this punishment, and in a manner exempt and unapparent ta all; but Minerva in* the fecond place, being fubfervient to and cooperating with the paternal providence of Jupiter : for, as Orpheus fays, " fhe is the powerful queen of the intelledt of Saturnian Jove *." The fame poet like-wife adds, •* that his brain who violates leagues and oaths flows on the ground like wine." In confequence, therefore, of thi? violation, fueh men fubjedt themfelves to juftice, and render themfelves adapted to punifhment^ Hence the violation of leagues and oaths is eipecially perpetrated by thofe who, prior to this, have dcferved the vengeance of the Gods, who juftly govern mortal affairs^ and thus punifh former crimes. But fuch are iaid to be moved, and led forth into energy by the Gods themfelves : not that the Gods render men who are to be puniflied impious and unjuft, but as calling into energy thofe that are adapted to the perpetration of fuch-like a6lions, that by once energizing according to their inward habit^ and producing Vnto light the progeny of depraved actions with which they are pregnant, they may become worthy of punifhment.

Vengeance is waste of time

Night and day waging war, bitter enemies evermore. Fierce and loyal, the day is strong. Broken oaths, so much goes wrong. Magic speaks to all hearts bound. Trapped in slumber until she's found. When two are joined the spell will break. One by one their souls awake. Hate takes over, vengeance sworn. And from the flames new life is born.

And this do I hear, Denethor son of Ecthelion, Lord of Gondor, Steward of the High King, and I will not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love, valour with honour, oath-breaking with vengeance.

They swore an oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession.

He had sworn undying vengeance as he was sent into exile, and Fireheart was sure that his bloodthirsty attempt to set the dog pack on the cats of ThunderClan would not be his last attempt to fulfill his oath.

Like those records, and whilst likewise showing a most interesting historical knowledge of certain events and personages that also appear in the Genesis record, the Beowulf poem clearly pre-dates any knowledge among the Anglo-Saxons of Christianity. In view of this, it is hardly surprising to find that the sentiments of the poem are strongly pagan, extolling the highly questionable virtues of vengeance, the accumulation of plunder and the boasting of and reliance upon human strength and prowess. Allusions are also made to blatantly pagan oaths, sacrifices, sentiments and forms of burial. But there are certainly no exclusively Christian sentiments expressed anywhere in its 3182 lines of text.

A flicker of pain crossed through his eyes, and Bjorn squeezed them shut. But as he reopened them, he said, “No oath is worth your life. No amount of vengeance is worth your happiness. I’ll let the past burn to ash, Freya, because you are my present. My future. My destiny.” He lifted his other hand to cup my face. “I love you.

George Q. Cannon and an apostle himself, said his father told him “that he understood when he had his endowments in Nauvoo that he took an oath against the murderers of the Prophet Joseph as well as other prophets, and if he had ever met any of those who had taken a hand in that massacre he would undoubtedly have attempted to avenge the blood of the martyrs.

How was I destined to be born and have you as my weapon three hundred years ago? That’s insanity. There had to have been so many little choices my ancestors had to make for me to even be here. You’d basically be declaring that none of us actually have a choice in the paths we take. Not at all. Fate just knows what path you are going to choose—always. I wasn’t ready to accept that at all.

Take that, Dracula!” Lo called out, a full smile consuming her face as her eyes glittered with amusement. Her hip popped out as she pointed a long, manicured nail at him, “Chicks before dicks!

Mortarion was still the greater of them. He was still the stronger, the more steeped in preternatural gifts, but now all that he felt was doubt, rocked by the remorseless fury of one who had never been anything more than flighty, self-regarding and unreliable. All Mortarion could see just then was one who wished to kill him - who would do anything, sacrifice anything, fight himself beyond physical limits, destroy his own body, his own heart, his own soul, just for the satisfaction of the oaths he had made in the void. 'If you know what I did,' Mortarion cried out, fighting on now through that cold fog of indecision, 'then you know the truth of it, brother - I can no longer die.' It was as if a signal had been given. The Khan's bloodied head lifted, the remnants of his long hair hanging in matted clumps. 'Oh, I know that,' he murmured, with the most perfect contempt he had ever mustered. 'But I can.' Then he leapt. His broken legs still propelled him, his fractured arms still bore his blade, his blood-filled lungs and perforated heart still gave him just enough power, and he swept in close. If he had been in the prime of condition, the move might have been hard to counter, but he was already little more than a corpse held together by force of will, and so Silence interposed itself, catching the Khan under his armour-stripped shoulder and impaling him deep. But that didn't stop him. The parry had been seen, planned for, and so he just kept coming, dragging himself up the length of the blade until the scythe jutted out of his ruptured back and the White Tiger was in tight against Mortarion's neck. For an instant, their two faces were right up against one another - both cadaverous now, drained of blood, drained of life, existing only as masks onto pure vengeance. All their majesty was stripped away, scraped out across the utilitarian rockcrete, leaving just the desire, the violence, the brute mechanics of despite. It only took a split second. Mortarion's eyes went wide, realising that he couldn't wrench his brother away in time. The Khan's narrowed. 'And that makes the difference,' Jaghatai spat. He snapped his dao across, severing Mortarion's neck cleanly in an explosion of black bile, before collapsing down into the warp explosion that turned the landing stage, briefly, into the brightest object on the planet after the Emperor's tormented soul itself.

And, tortured by his own weakness, Theleb K’aarna, sorcerer of Pan Tang, left. Elric of Melniboné was in Bakshaan—and Elric had sworn several oaths of vengeance upon Theleb K’aarna on several separate occasions—in Lormyr, Nadsokor and Tanelorn, as well as in Jharkor. In his heart, the black-bearded sorcerer knew who would win any duel which might take place.

An oath between a war leader and his warriors is a double edged sword. An oath is measured and must be balance

Royal influence was further seen in the sworn inquest, an institution which could be employed only by the king, or by his missi and counts with his express permission. This method was inherited from the late Roman Empire and was employed for administrative as well as judicial purposes. It consisted in summoning a number of persons from the locality in question, who were bound by oath to tell what they knew concerning crimes committed there or a corrupt official or any similar matter. Sometimes these sworn witnesses gave their testimony collectively, sometimes they were questioned singly. This was a good method for the government in gathering information, but it proved very unpopular among the Franks, because the sworn witnesses were regarded as tale-bearers upon their neighbors and were liable to be the victims of private vengeance after the royal officials had passed on. But the institution survived the fall of the Frankish state and continued in existence in Normandy, whence it was carried to England after the Norman conquest, and there became the germ of the modern jury system in English and United States law.