Revenge Of The Sith Quotes

The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.

A pair of starfighters. Jedi starfighters. Only two. Two is enough. Two is enough because the adults are wrong, and their younglings are right. Though this is the end of the age of heroes, it has saved its best for last.

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi: A phenomenal pilot who doesn’t like to fly. A devastating warrior who’d rather not fight. A negotiator without peer who frankly prefers to sit alone in a quiet cave and meditate.

This was not Sith against Jedi. This was not light against dark or good against evil; it had nothing to do with duty or philosophy, religion or morals. It was Anakin against Obi-Wan. Personally. Just the two of them and the damage they had done to each other

So this is how liberty dies," she was saying to herself. "With cheering, and applause.

Contemplation of death brought only one slight sting of regret, and more than a bit of puzzlement. Until this very moment, he had never realized he’d always expected, for no discernible reason— That when he died, Anakin would be with him.

This truth: that he, the avatar of light, Supreme Master of the Jedi Order, the fiercest, most impeccable, most devastatingly powerful foe the darkness had ever known... just- didn't- have it.

The dark is generous. Its first gift is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others. The dark protects us from what we dare not know.

The dark is generous, and it is patient. It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt. The dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause those seeds to sprout. The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout, for the dark is the soil in which they grow, and it is the clouds above them, and it waits behind the star that gives them light. The dark’s patience is infinite. Eventually, even stars burn out.

And he knew that to strike Anakin down would burn his own heart to ash

I am called a great swordsman because I invented a lethal style; but who is greater, the creator of a killing form—or the master of the classic form?" "I'm very flattered that you would consider me a master but really—" "Not a master. The master.

And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the shadow who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end you don't even want to. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself—And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame.

But even in the deepest night, there are some who dream of dawn

And Anakin is on his way despite the dread boiling through his blood. That’s what makes him a real hero. Not the way the HoloNet labels him; not without fear, but stronger than fear. He looks the dragon in the eye and doesn’t even slow down.

Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin’s arm. “There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man.” Anakin turned, and found within Obi-Wan’s eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him then felt like a promise from the Force itself. “I… I wouldn’t have it any other way, Master.” “I believe,” his onetime Master said with a gently humorous look of astonishment at the words coming out of his mouth, “that you should get used to calling me Obi-Wan.

They are closer than friends. Closer than brothers. Though Obi-Wan is sixteen standard years Anakin's elder, they have become men together. Neither can imagine life without the other. The war has forged their two lives into one.

In the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself - And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame. This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker. Forever...

Until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction. Be mindful of what is, not what might be.

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, forever: The first dawn of light in your universe brings pain. The light burns you. It will always burn you. Part of you will always lie upon black glass sand beside a lake of fire while flames chew upon your flesh. You can hear yourself breathing. It comes hard, and harsh, and it scrapes nerves already raw, but you cannot stop it. You can never stop it. You cannot even slow it down. You don’t even have lungs anymore. Mechanisms hardwired into your chest breathe for you. They will pump oxygen into your bloodstream forever. Lord Vader? Lord Vader, can you hear me?

This is Anakin Skywalker: The most powerful Jedi of his generation. Perhaps of any generation. The fastest. The strongest. An unbeatable pilot. An unstoppable warrior. On the ground, in the air or sea or space, there is no one even close. He has not just power, not just skill, but dash: that rare, invaluable combination of boldness and grace.

In every exchange, Obi-Wan gave ground. It was his way.

It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith - Because now your self is all you will ever have.

I think," Obi-Wan said carefully, "that abstractions like peace don't mean much to him. He's loyal to people, not to principles. And he expects loyalty in return. He will stop at nothing to save me, for example, because he thinks I would do the same for him." Mace and Yoda gazed at him steadily, and Obi-Wan had to lower his head. "Because," he admitted reluctantly, "he knows I would do the same for him.

Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out. This is why Jedi form no attachments: all things pass. To hold on to something—or someone—beyond its time is to set your selfish desires against the Force. That is a path of misery, Anakin; the Jedi do not walk it.

Obi-Wan, staring, wished that he had the strength to rip his eyes out of his head. But even blind, he would see this forever. He would see his friend, his student, his brother, turn and kneel in front of a black-cloaked Lord of the Sith. His head rang with a silent scream.

You are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory

Until the time is right, disappear we will.

Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out.

You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself... It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith-- Because now your self is all you will ever have.

Obi-Wan looked down. It would be a mercy to kill him. He was not feeling merciful

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. It is a story of love and loss, brotherhood and betrayal, courage and sacrifice and the death of dreams. It is a story of the blurred line between our best and our worst. It is the story of the end of an age. A strange thing about stories— Though this all happened so long ago and so far away that words cannot describe the time or the distance, it is also happening right now. Right here. It is happening as you read these words. This is how twenty-five millennia come to a close. Corruption and treachery have crushed a thousand years of peace. This is not just the end of a republic; night is falling on civilization itself. This is the twilight of the Jedi. The end starts now.

His agony somehow became an invisible hand, stretching out through the Force, a hand that found her, far away, alone in her apartment in the dark, a hand that felt the silken softness of her skin and the sleek coils of her hair, a hand that dissolved into a field of pure energy, of pure feeling that reached inside her— And now he felt her, really felt her in the Force, as though she could have been some kind of Jedi, too, but more than that: he felt a bond, a connection, deeper and more intimate than he’d ever had before with anyone, even Obi-Wan; for a precious eternal instant he was her … he was the beat of her heart and he was the motion of her lips and he was her soft words as though she spoke a prayer to the stars—

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, forever: The first dawn of light in your universe brings pain. The light burns you. It will always burn you. Part of you will always lie upon black glass sand beside a lake of fire while flames chew upon your flesh

Padmé

This is not just the end of a republic; night is falling on civilization itself.

Palpatine gave him that wise, kindly-uncle smile Anakin had been seeing since the age of nine. "For what?" "You're a Sith Lord!" "I am." he said simply. "I am also your friend.

Every person has a life mission to fulfill. Never attempt to destroy what God has put in another person to do. You don't know God's plans, but Satan will most certainly use you to stop his plans.

The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins– but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.

You should pay more attention to the weather." Yellow eyes narrowed behind a mask of armorplast. "What?" "Have a look outside." He pointed his lightsaber toward the archway. "It's about to start raining clones.

Have you had contact with any other survivors?" "Only one," the Alderaanian senator said grimly. "Lock onto my coordinates. He's waiting for you.

Do or do not, there is no try. -Yoda

The long night has begun. ... But even in the deepest night, there are some who dream of dawn.

Until this very moment, he had never realized he'd always expected, for no discernible reason -- That when he died, Anakin would be with him

...you must understand that not even the Jedi know all there is to be known about the Force; no mortal mind can. We speak of the will of the Force as someone ignorant of gravity might say it is the will of a river to flow to the ocean; it is a metaphor that describes our ignorance. The simple truth - if any truth is ever simple - is that we do not truly know what the will of the Force may be. We can never know. It is so far beyond our limited understanding that we can only surrender to its mystery.

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi: A phenomenal pilot who doesn’t like to fly. A devastating warrior who’d rather not fight. A negotiator without peer who frankly prefers to sit alone in a quiet cave and meditate.

He had time to gasp, "You're - you're Anakin Skywalker!" before a fountain of blue-white plasma burned into his chest, curving through a loop that charred all three of his hearts. The Separatist leadership watched in frozen horror as the corpse of the head of the InterGalactic Banking Clan collapsed like a depowered protocol droid. "The resemblance," Darth Vader said, "Is deceptive.

You’ve been off fighting the war in the Outer Rim. You don’t know what it’s been like, dealing with all the petty squabbles and special interests and greedy, grasping fools in the Senate, and Palpatine’s constant, cynical, ruthless maneuvering for power—he carves away chunks of our freedom and bandages the wounds with tiny scraps of security. And for what? Look at this planet, Obi-Wan! We have given up so much freedom—how secure do we look?

Which would leave Mace and Agen Kolar- -both among the greatest bladesbeings the Jedi Order has ever produced

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

O, let it go—fear not, but be at ease: The heat ne’er bother’d R2 anyway.

In Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Darth Vader says to Obi-Wan Kenobi, “If you’re not with me, then you’re my enemy.

Say what you will about the wisdom of ancient Master Yoda, or the deadly skill of grim Mace Windu, the courage of Ki-Adi-Mundi, or the subtle wiles of Shaak Ti; the greatness of all these Jedi is unquestioned, but it pales next to the legend that has grown around Kenobi and Skywalker. They stand alone.

She put this in my hand - " For what seemed the dozenth time this day, he found himself blinking back tears. " - and I don't even know what it is." "Precious to her, it must have been," Yoda said slowly. "Buried with her, perhaps it should be." Obi-Wan looked down at the simple, child-like symbols carved into it and felt from it in the Force soaring echoes of transcendent love, and the bleak, black despair of unendurable heartbreak.

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. It is a story of love and loss, brotherhood and betrayal, courage and sacrifice and the death of dreams. It is a story of the blurred line between our best and our worst. It is the story of the end of an age. A strange thing about stories— Though this all happened so long ago and so far away that words cannot describe the time or the distance, it is also happening right now. Right here. It is happening as you read these words. This is how twenty-five millennia come to a close. Corruption and treachery have crushed a thousand years of peace. This is not just the end of a republic; night is falling on civilization itself. This is the twilight of the Jedi. The end starts now.

We Sith are an unseen opposition, Tenebrous had told his young apprentice. A phantom menace. Where the Sith once wore armor, we now wear cloaks. But the Force works through us all the more powerfully in our invisibility. For the present, the more covert we remain, the more influence we can have. Our revenge will be achieved not through subjugation but by contagion.

And in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you. The shadow forgives you. The shadow gathers you unto itself. And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame. — A warning from a darker time

Not his penetrating intellect, or his talents with the Force, or his unmatched skills with a lightsaber." -Matthew Stover on Mace Windu

There was a thermonuclear furnace where his heart should be, and it was burning through the firewalls of his Jedi training.

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

At last the work of generations is complete. The great error is corrected. They day of victory is at hand. The day of revenge. The day of the Sith.

A slight, wistful smile crept over his face. 'If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear Qui-Gon reminding me that until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction.

I don’t know you anymore! Anakin, you’re breaking my heart! You’re going down a path I can’t follow!

Being a Jedi means allowing things—even things we love—to pass out of our lives.

The greatest danger from the darkness outside came when Jedi fed it with the darkness within.

Certainty is a fine thing,” the Chancellor allowed. “Though it too often happens that those who are the most entirely certain are also the most entirely wrong.

These bronzium images serve as melancholy reminders that some Jedi have needs the Order cannot satisfy.

And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the shadow who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you don't even want to.

How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on the event, A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;' Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me: Witness this army of such mass and charge Led by a delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd

She was silent, and still, only letting herself breathe, feeling the beat of her heart, and she could have stood there forever, in the shadows, and had her fondest dreams all fulfilled, simply by watching him be alive...

Now Obi Wan did face him. 'Palpatine faced Mace and Agen and Kit and Saesee-four of the greatest swordsmen our order has ever produced. By Himself. Even both of us together wouldn't have a chance.' 'True,' Yoda said, 'But both of us apart, a chance we might create...

Leave him, Anakin. There is no time." Palpatine was half hanging from the banister, both arms wrapped around a stanchion. "This whole spire may be about to break free-" "Then we'll all be adrift together." Anakin glanced up at the Supreme Chancellor and for that instant he didn't like the man at all

More recently, Lucas described a visit in Europe, after the release of Revenge of the Sith, “with a dozen reporters, and the Russian correspondents all thought the film was about Russian politics, and the Americans all thought it was about Bush. And I said, ‘Well, it’s really based on Rome. And on the French Revolution and Bonaparte.’” The prequels focus on the rise of tyranny and the collapse of democracies. They explore the kinds of machinations that allow dictators to come to power, and they show how republics fall prey to them. There’s a stylized account of the loss of freedom, which Padmé nicely captures: “So this is how liberty dies . . . with thunderous applause.

He could feel the end of the battle approaching, and so could the blur of the Sith he faced in the Force, the shadow had become a pulsar of fear. Easily, almost effortlessly, he turned the shadow's fear into a weapon: he angled the battle to bring them both out onto the window ledge. Out in the wind. Out with the lightning. Out on a rain-slicked ledge above a half kilometer drop. Out where the shadow's fear's fear made it hesitate. Out where the shadow's fear turned some of it's Force-powered speed into a Force-powered grip on the slippery permacrete. Out where Mace could flick his blade in one precise arc and slash the shadow's lightsaber in half. One piece flipped back in through the cut open window. The other tumbled from opening fingers, bounced on the ledge, and fell through the rain towards the distant alleys below. Now the shadow was only Palpatine: old and shrunken, thinning hair bleached white by time and care, face lined with exhaustion. 'For all your power, my lord,you are no Jedi. All you are, my lord,' Mace said evenly, staring past his blade, 'is under arrest.

And the true inspiration, the sparkling grace note of genius that brings his masterpiece to life, is the soprano counterpoint: a syncopated sequence of exterior hatches in the outer hull sliding open and closed and open again, subtly altering the aerodynamics of the ship to give it just exactly the amount of sideslip or lift or yaw to bring the huge half cruiser into the approach cone of a pinpoint target an eighth of the planet away.

The STAR WARS Novels Timeline OLD REPUBLIC 5000–33 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Lost Tribe of the Sith* Precipice Skyborn Paragon Savior Purgatory Sentinel 3650 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope The Old Republic: Deceived Lost Tribe of the Sith* Pantheon Secrets Red Harvest The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance 1032 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Knight Errant Darth Bane: Path of Destruction Darth Bane: Rule of Two Darth Bane: Dynasty of Evil RISE OF THE EMPIRE 33–0 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Darth Maul: Saboteur* Cloak of Deception Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter 32 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace Rogue Planet Outbound Flight The Approaching Storm 22 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 22–19 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope The Clone Wars The Clone Wars: Wild Space The Clone Wars: No Prisoners Clone Wars Gambit Stealth Siege Republic Commando Hard Contact Triple Zero True Colors Order 66 Shatterpoint The Cestus Deception The Hive* MedStar I: Battle Surgeons MedStar II: Jedi Healer Jedi Trial Yoda: Dark Rendezvous Labyrinth of Evil 19 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE III: Revenge of the Sith Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader Imperial Commando 501st Coruscant Nights Jedi Twilight Street of Shadows Patterns of Force The

A slight, wistful smile crept over his face. "If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear Qui-Gon reminding me that until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction.

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

Kenobi was luminous, a transparent being, a window onto a sunlit meadow of the Force. Skywalker was a storm cloud, flickering with dangerous lightning, building the rotation that threatens a tornado.

Kenobi was luminous, a transparent being, a window onto a sunlit meadow of the Force. Skywalker was a storm cloud, flickering with dangerous lightning, building the rotation that threatens a tornado.

Bail, it’s the only way. It’s the only hope you have of remaining in a position to do anyone any good. Vote for Palpatine. Vote for the Empire. Make Mon Mothma vote for him, too. Be good little Senators. Mind your manners and keep your heads down. And keep doing… all those things we can’t talk about. All those things I can’t know. Promise me, Bail.

He remembered Obi-Wan telling him about some poet he’d once read—he couldn’t remember the name, or the exact quote, but it was something about how there is no greater misery than to remember, with bitter regret, a day when you were happy… How had everything gone so fast from so right to so wrong? He couldn’t even imagine.

The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins— but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.

Amidala, Panaka, and about half the troops climbed through; the others, and the Queen’s handmaidens, stayed in the hall to hold off the battle droids. The

Jar Jar Binks

I’m guessing this is your first line,” Troy said. “How can you tell?” she asked. “I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “I can always tell. It’s Gabe’s first line, too.” “We were eight when the last Star Wars movie came out,” Gabe said, not looking up from his book. “Revenge of the Sith!” Troy said. “That wasn’t much of a line anyway. It was no Empire.” “Nothing is,” Elena said. Troy’s face got somber. “Hear, hear, Elena. Hear, hear.” All

This was all he needed. To be here, to be with her. To watch the sunset bring a blush to her ivory skin. If not for his dreams, he’d withdraw from the Order today. Now. The Lost Twenty would be the Lost Twenty-One. Let the scandal come; it wouldn’t destroy their lives. Not their real lives. It would destroy only the lives they’d had before each other: those separate years that now meant nothing at all.

He is a wild creature who has come gently to her hand, a vine tiger purring against her cheek. Every softness of his touch, every kind glance or loving word is a small miracle in itself. How can she not be grateful for such gifts?

The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.

The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins—but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.

some Jedi have needs the Order cannot satisfy.

Anakin wanted to crawl away into a corner somewhere; he felt sure that if things would just stop for a while—an hour, a minute—he could pull himself together and find some way to keep moving forward. He had to keep moving forward. Moving forward was all he could do.

The dark’s patience is infinite. Eventually, even stars burn out.

The Empire Strikes Back (grade: A+) A New Hope (grade: A+) Return of the Jedi (grade: A) Rogue One (grade: A) Revenge of the Sith (grade: A-) The Force Awakens (grade: A-) The Last Jedi (grade: B+) Attack of the Clones (grade: B+) The Phantom Menace (grade: B) Solo (grade: C)

It is possible that even the war itself has been only one further move,” he said with elegant, understated precision, “in some greater game.

Anakin had to laugh. “I should know better than to argue with a politician.

The Jedi teach that anticipation is distraction.

And so the mask becomes the man,” he sighed with a hint of philosophical melancholy. “I shall miss the face of Palpatine, I think; but for our purpose, the face of Sidious will serve. Yes, it will serve.

Sometimes the closest,” Palpatine said sadly, “are those who cannot see.

Save your twisted words, my lord. There are no politicians here. The Sith will never regain control of the Republic. It’s over. You’ve lost.” Mace leveled his blade. “You lost for the same reason the Sith always lose: defeated by your own fear.

Obi-Wan wasn’t even fighting. He was only a vessel, emptied of self. The Force, shaped by his skill and guided by his clarity of mind, fought through him.