Pawn Of Prophecy Quotes

It's only a story, isn't it?"... "Who's to say what's only a story and what's truth disguised as a story?

But there's a world beyond what we can see and touch, and that world lives by its own laws. What may be impossible in this very ordinary world is very possible there, and sometimes the boundaries between the two worlds disappear, and then who can say what is possible and impossible?

A day in which you learn something isn't a complete loss.

We're living in momentous times, Garion. The events of a thousand years and more have all focused on these very days. The world, I'm told, is like that. Centuries pass when nothing happens, and then in a few short years events of such tremendous importance take place that the world is never the same again." I think that if I had my choice, I'd prefer one of those quiet centuries," Garion said glumly. Oh, no," Silk said, his lips drawing back in a ferretlike grin. "Now's the time to be alive - to see it all happen, to be a part of it. That makes the blood race, and each breath is an adventure.

Could you penetrate this palace, Prince Kheldar?" King Anheg challenged. "I already have, your Majesty," Silk said modestly, "a dozen times or more." Anheg looked at Rhodar with one raised eyebrow. Rhodar coughed slightly. "It was some time ago, Anheg. Nothing serious. I was just curious about something, that's all." "All you had to do was ask," Anheg said in a slightly injured tone. "I didn't want to bother you," Rhodar said with a shrug. "Besides, it's more fun to do it the other way.

Misty Sendaria," Silk said ironically. "Sometimes I'm amazed that the entire kingdom doesn't rust shut.

I must admit that I haven't heard of the Duchess of Erat before." "You're a fortunate man," Wolf said. "She's a great beauty," the man said admiringly. "And has a temper to match," Wolf told him. "I noticed that," the guard said. "We noticed you noticing," Silk told him slyly.

Why are the people all so unhappy?" he asked Mister Wolf. "They have a stern and demanding God," Wolf replied. "Which God is that?" Garion asked. "Money," Wolf said.

The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor's farm. For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home. No matter how high Garion rose in life, he never forgot that all his memories began in that kitchen.

Little jobs require little men, and it's the little jobs that keep a kingdom running.

Life without any wonder left in it is flat and stale.

You of all beings know how fate works. What happened to you as a human happened because everyone from your parents on down tried to circumvent what was supposed to be – which ultimately was the destruction of the Atlantean pantheon. There was no changing that prophecy. But the way you suffered was completely unnecessary. Had your parents embraced their true destiny, you would have been saved years of torment. Fate will not be denied. We can sculpt it, but in the end we’re all pawns to our final destinies. Good, bad, or indifferent. (Savitar)

Some day, Prince Kheldar, you will fall in love," the queen said with a little smirk, "and the twelve kingdoms will stand around and chortle over the fall of so notorious a bachelor.

One does one's best" - Silk

Centuries pass when nothing happens, and then in a few short years events of such tremendous importance take place that the world is never the same again .... Now's the time to be alive-- to see it happen, to be a part of it. That makes the blood race, and each breath is an adventure.

We all live as long as we need to. It just happened that I have something to do that's taken a very long time.

He's nearly a man," Faldor explained to Aunt Pol, "and a man always has need of a good knife.

Women are almost always angry with us for one reason or another. It's one of the things you'll have to get used to as you get older.

somewhat

Torak's dead." "Really?" Aunt Pol said. "Have you seen his grave? Have you opened the grave and seen his bones?

A great blow it was,' he said in expensive tones, 'worthy of the mightiest warrior and truly struck upon the nose of the foe. The bright blood flew, and the enemy was dismayed and overcame. Like a hero, Garion stood over the vanquished, and, like a true hero, did not boast nor taunt his fallen opponent, but offered instead advice for quelling that crimson blood. with simple dignity then, he quit the field, but the bright-eyed maid would not let him depart unrewarded for his valor. hastily, she pursued him and fondly clasped her snowy arms about his neck. And there she lovingly bestowed that single kiss that is the true hero's greatest reward. Her eyes flamed with admiration, and her chaste bosom heaved with newly wakened passion. But modest Garion innocently departed and tarried not to claim those other sweet rewards the gentle maid's fond demeanor so clearly offered. And thus the adventure ended with our hero tasting victory but tenderly declining victory's true compensation.

frippery.

A prudent man doesn’t give either a priest or a woman the opportunity to scold him in public.

It's the way of kings.

As he grew, the other children grew as well—all except poor Doroon, who seemed doomed to be short and skinny all his life. Rundorig

You've been away from home too long if you can get lost on the way from the harbor to the palace.

Centuries pass when nothing happens, and then in a few short years events of such tremendous importance take place that the world is never the same again.

His stories were not always new, but there was in the telling of them a special kind of magic. His voice could roll like thunder or hush down into a zepherlike whisper. He could imitate the voices of a dozen men at once; whistle so like a bird that the birds themselves would come to him to hear what he had to say; and when when he imitated the howl of a wolf, the sound could raise the hair on the backs of his listeners' necks and strike a chill into their hearts like the depths of a Drasnian winter. He could make the sound of rain and of wind and even, most miraculously, the sound of snow falling.

In the end, Christian Zionism reduces Jews to the status of pawns in the fulfillment of end-times prophecies that many Christian preachers love to speak and write about.

Events are like horses," Hettar told him. "Sometimes they run away. After they've run for a while, though, they'll start to walk again. Then there'll be time to put everything together.

Everything is idiocy if you choose to look at it in the proper light," he replied philosophically.

Why are the people all so unhappy?" he asked Mister Wolf. "They have a stern and demanding God," Wolf replied. "Which God is that?" Garion asked. "Money," Wolf said. "Money's a worse God than Torak himself.

Orb could

For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home.

It's not good to leave things of value behind. They nag at the mind and dis-tract one from the business at hand.

Why

But there's a world beyond what we can see and touch, and that world lives by its own laws. What may be impossible in this very ordinary world is very possible there, and sometimes the boundaries between the two worlds disappear, and then who can say what's possible and impossible?

. One of them came to Faldor's farm once and told Durnik that he was going to die twice.

Centuries pass when nothing happens, and then in a few short years events of such tremendous importance take place that the world is never the same again." "I think that if I had my choice, I'd prefer one of those quiet centuries," Garion said glumly. "Oh, no," Silk said, his lips drawing back in a ferretlike grin. "Now's the time to be alive—to see it all happen, to be a part of it. That makes the blood race, and each breath is an adventure.

…the maimed and ugly face he had briefly seen or imagined in the fight with Rundorig loomed darkly, like the hideous fruit of an unspeakably evil tree.