Scholar Warrior Quotes

She'd grown up inside books. No matter how dark life became, shutting out the hurt was as easy as opening a cover. A child of murdered parents and a failed rebellion, she'd still walked in the boots of scholars and warriors, queens and conquerors. The heavens grant us only one life, but through books, we live a thousand.

The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools.

The Society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.

A scholar’s pen is more valuable than a warrior’s sword.

Thucydides: “Any nation that draws too great a distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.

I am who I say I am, I'm not some fantasy of how you think you think you know or who I ought to be. I am a girl who is growing up in my own sweet time, I am a girl who knows enough to know this life is mine. I am this and I am that and I am everything in-between. I'm a dreamer, I'm a dancer, I'm a part-time drama queen. I'm a worrier, I'm a warrior, I'm a loner and a friend, I'm an outspoken defender of justice to the end. I'm the girl in the mirror who likes the girl she sees, I'm the girl in the gypsy shawl with music in her knees. I'm a singer and a scholar, I'm a girl who has been kissed. I'm a solver of equations wearing bangles on my wrist. I am bigger than i ever knew, I am stronger than before, I am every girl I have ever been, and all that are in store. I am who I say I am. I'm not some fantasy. I am the me I am inside. I am who I chose to be.

A warrior becomes experienced by being defeated; a scholar by making mistakes. Defeat and mistakes we have left in the past," he said.

Looking out over the mezzanine to the endless shelves below, the girl couldn’t help but smile. She’d grown up inside books. No matter how dark life became, shutting out the hurt was as easy as opening a cover. A child of murdered parents and a failed rebellion, she’d still walked in the boots of scholars and warriors, queens and conquerors.

You want us to bargain with a lizard?” “They’re not lizards, Father. They’re extraordinary creatures who were here long before any human was crawling on this earth. They are warriors and scholars and—” “He has long hair like a woman,” one of Sigmar’s sons blathered

I have a warrior as a consort, scholar,” Raphael said at her frozen response. “I recognize one when I see her, even if she chooses to wield the pen more often than the sword.

God of Gods. Destroyer of Evil. Passionate lover. Fierce warrior. Consummate dancer. Charismatic leader. All-powerful, yet incorruptible. A quick wit, accompanied by an equally quick and fearsome temper. Over the centuries, no foreigner who came to our land – conqueror, merchant, scholar, ruler, traveller – believed that such a great man could possibly have existed in reality. They assumed that he must have been a mythical God, whose

Terror, he realized, was best spread not by the acts of warriors, but by the pens of scribes and scholars.

The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools.” – Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War (ca 410 BCE)

The quality of authors determines the quality of books. The quality of musicians determines the quality of songs. The quality of artists determines the quality of paintings. The quality of architects determines the quality of buildings. The quality of generals determines the quality of warriors. The quality of preachers determines the quality of sermons. The quality of scientists determines the quality of inventions. The quality of leaders determines the quality of followers. The quality of scholars determines the quality of lectures. The quality of teachers determines the quality of students. The quality of schools determines the quality of graduates. The quality of graduates determines the quality of nations. The quality of plants determines the quality of air. The quality of air determies the quality of animals. The quality of animals determines the quality of food. The quality of food determines the quality of the planet.

You can be an intellectual without a question, an academic without an answer, a lecturer without a lesson, a guru without a disciple, a master without a student, a general without an army, a scholar without a theory, a scientist without a discovery, an inventor without an invention, a warrior without a weapon, a preacher without a sermon, a prophet without a prophecy, a seer without a revelation, a sorcerer without a spell, a professor without a message, a leader without a follower, a dreamer without a vision, a healer without a patient, a ruler without a nation, a prince without a kingdom, and a king without a territory.

When you study success, you become a dreamer. When you study failure, you become a victor. When you study organisations, you become a mentor. When you study management, you become a leader. When you study nature, you become a scholar. When you study people, you become a counselor. When you study life, you become a thinker. When you study God, you become a philosopher. When you study magic, you become a sorcerer. When you study stars, you become an astronomer. When you study oracles, you become a seer. When you study visions, you become a diviner. When you study combat, you become a warrior. When you study war, you become a commander. When you study policy, you become a governor. When you study politics, you become a ruler. When you study nothing, you become a loser. When you study little, you become a loafer. When you study much, you become a winner. When you study all, you become a master.

Not just power,” Garrett said, growing excited. “Unimaginable power. According to his prophecies, you will recruit a warrior, a scholar, a prophet, gatekeeper, a warden, and a couple of other figures Dr. von Holstein is still working on.

Ignorance is the world's oldest prison, fear is the world's oldest slave master, envy is the world's oldest poison, desire is the world's oldest fuel, curiosity is the world's oldest scholar, conscience is the world's oldest preacher, karma is the world's oldest judge, time is the world's oldest healer, destiny is the world's oldest prophet, truth is the world's oldest sage, courage is the world's oldest warrior, love is the world's oldest angel, joy is the world's oldest medicine, intelligence is the world's oldest professor, light is the world's oldest mirror, eternity is the world's oldest vault, knowledge is the world's oldest tree, wisdom is the world's oldest fountain, nature is the world's oldest clock, reality is the world's oldest portrait, darkness is the world's oldest curtain, stars are the world's oldest lamps, the sky is the world's oldest blanket, the Earth is the world's oldest bedroom, life is the world's oldest theatre, fate is the world's oldest conductor, people are the world's oldest actors, angels are the world's oldest spectators, and God is the world's oldest theatre owner.

Having a brain does not make you a thinker. Having a student does not make you a teacher. Having a class does not make you a scholar. Having a degree does not make you a master. Having a sword does not make you a warrior. Having a following does not make you a leader. Having a position does not make you a ruler. Having an army does not make you a conqueror. Having a job does not mean you have a career. Having a servant does not mean you have a helper. Having a mom does not mean you have a nurturer. Having a girlfriend does not mean you have comforter. Having a coach does not mean you have a trainer. Having a class does not mean you have a teacher. Having a son does not mean you have a successor. Having a daughter does not mean you have an inheritor. Having a wife does not mean you have a lover. Having a spouse does not mean you have an admirer. Having a friend does not mean you have a partner. Having a dad does not mean you have a father. Having a professor does not mean you have a teacher. Having a teammate does not mean you have a collaborator. Having an ally does not mean you have a protector. Having a dependent does not mean you have a supporter.

For aggressive societies to survive, however, they always need that priest-judge-advisor class as well. This class balances the kings and warriors (as the U.S. Supreme Court balances the president and his armed forces). It is a more thoughtful group, often acting to check the impulses of the warrior-kings. Since the advisor class often proves right, its members are respected as counselors, historians, teachers, scholars, and the upholders of justice. They have the foresight, for example, to look out for the well-being of those common folks on whom the society depends, those who grow the food and raise the children. They warn against hasty wars and bad use of the land.

Scholarship, religion, philosophy—they were killing matters in those days, and at that time I was still close enough to my human habits of thought to be concerned about the outcome of the invasion. And too, it was still respectable among scholars to be a warrior, and among warriors to be a scholar, which it is no longer, as I’m sure you know.

Artist and scholar, warrior and statesman, husband and father, Ḥaḍrat ‘Alī is a traditional model for chivalry, learning, and devotion.

The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools.” – Thucydides

A warrior without knowledge swung blindly. A scholar with no sword couldn’t act on anything they knew or defend the precious information they guarded.

A pen in a scholar's pocket is greater than a sword in a warrior's hand.

The Nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.

You were a warrior, Lantern. Such men are not renowned for understanding the infinite shades of gray that govern the actions of men. Black and white are your colors.” “Scholars tend to overcomplicate matters,” said Skilgannon. “If a man runs at you with a sword it would be foolish to spend time wondering what led him to such action. Was his childhood scarred by a cruel father? Did his wife leave him for another man? Was he perhaps misinformed about your intentions, and therefore has attacked you in error?” Skilgannon laughed. “Warriors need black and white, Elder Brother. Shades of gray would kill them.” “True,” admitted the abbot, “and yet a greater understanding that there are shades of gray would prevent many wars beginning.

You cannot be a mother until you are a daughter, an infant until you are a toddler, a youth until you are a youngster, a grownup until you are a teenager, an elder until you are a minor, an ancestor until you are a progenitor, a father until you are a creator, and an heir until you are a successor. Nor can you be a master until you are a scholar, a guru until you are a learner, a leader until you are a follower, a warrior until you are a fighter, a general until you are a soldier, a pope until you are a worshiper, a doctor until you are a healer, and an apostle until you are a believer.

The foretelling, Elias,” the Augur says. “The future given to the Augurs in visions. That is the reason we built this school. That is the reason you are here. Do you know the story?” The story of Blackcliff’s origin was the first thing I learned as a Yearling: Five hundred years ago, a warrior brute named Taius united the fractured Martial clans and swept down from the north, crushing the Scholar Empire and taking over most of the continent. He named himself Emperor and established his dynasty. He was called the Masked One, for the unearthly silver mask he wore to scare the hell out of his enemies. But the Augurs, considered holy even then, saw in their visions that Taius’s line would one day fail. When that day came, the Augurs would choose a new Emperor through a series of physical and mental tests: the Trials. For obvious reasons, Taius didn’t appreciate this prediction, but the Augurs must have threatened to strangle him with sheep gut, because he didn’t make a peep when they raised Blackcliff and began training students here. And here we all are, five centuries later, masked just like Taius the First, waiting for the old devil’s line to fail so one of us can become the shiny new Emperor. I’m not holding my breath. Generations of Masks have trained and served and died without a whisper of the Trials. Blackcliff may have started out as a place to prepare the future Emperor, but now it’s just a training ground for the Empire’s deadliest asset. “I know the story,” I say in response to the Augur’s question. But I don’t believe a word of it, since it’s mythical horse dung.

One scholar is worth more than a thousand students. One sage is worth more than a thousand scholars. One leader is worth more than a thousand followers. One friend is worth more than a thousand acquaintances. One warrior is worth more than a thousand cowards. One wife is worth more than a thousand mistresses. One prince is worth more than a thousand slaves. One general is worth more than a thousand soldiers. One saint is worth more than a thousand sinners.

To be a Taoist, one need not engage in fanatical denial of any part of life, nor does one need to leave family and career in order to gain a foothold on the path. One need only balance the various parts of one’s personality and provide them with a strong focus.

Tea first came to Japan in the sixth century by way of Japanese Buddhist monks, scholars, warriors, and merchants who traveled to China and brought back tea pressed into bricks. It was not until 1911, during the Song dynasty, that the Japanese Buddhist priest Eisai (also known as Yosai) carried home from China fine-quality tea seeds and the method for making matcha (powdered green tea). The tea seeds were cultivated on the grounds of several Kyoto temples and later in such areas as the Uji district just south of Kyoto. Following the Chinese traditional method, Japanese Zen monks would steam, dry, then grind the tiny green tea leaves into a fine powder and whip it with a bamboo whisk in boiling water to create a thick medicinal drink to stimulate the senses during long periods of meditation.

Word spread quickly: The visitor wished to address the scholars. 'What can he want?' they wondered, streaming into the Royal Theater. Attendance was voluntary, and unanimous. If the sight of the warriors wasn't enough to stoke their curiosity, there was rumor of a 'rare opportunity'.

Don't strive to be a leader, strive to be a server. Don't strive to be a general, strive to be a commander. Don't strive to be a teacher, strive to be a learner. Don't strive to be a warrior, strive to be a protector. Don't strive to be a prophet, strive to be a preacher. Don't strive to be a doctor, strive to be a healer. Don't strive to be a master, strive to be a learner. Don't strive to be an author, strive to be a reader. Don't strive to be a lecturer, strive to be a scholar. Don't strive to be an intellectual, strive to be a thinker. Not all of us were meant to teach, but all of us were meant to learn. Not all of us were meant to lead, but all of us were meant to serve. Not all of us were meant to be rich, but all of us were meant to be charitable. Not all of us were meant to be famous, but all of us were meant to be upright. Not all of us were meant to be mighty, but all of us were meant to persevere. Not all of us were meant to be extraordinary, but all of us were meant to prevail.

The Renaissance did not break completely with mediaeval history and values. Sir Philip Sidney is often considered the model of the perfect Renaissance gentleman. He embodied the mediaeval virtues of the knight (the noble warrior), the lover (the man of passion), and the scholar (the man of learning). His death in 1586, after the Battle of Zutphen, sacrificing the last of his water supply to a wounded soldier, made him a hero. His great sonnet sequence Astrophel and Stella is one of the key texts of the time, distilling the author's virtues and beliefs into the first of the Renaissance love masterpieces. His other great work, Arcadia, is a prose romance interspersed with many poems and songs.

Professional wrestling is simply the most modern interpretation of an ancient tradition of stylized verbal battles between enemies.  From the time that Homer recorded the Iliad, the emergence of what Scottish scholars call ‘flyting’—” “That would be a verbal battle preceding a physical one, but considered equally as important to the overall outcome,” Carwyn interjected.   “Exactly.  Throughout world myth, warriors have engaged in a verbal struggle that is as symbolically important as the battle itself.  You can see examples in early Anglo-Saxon literature—” “You’ve read Beowulf, haven’t you, English major?” Giovanni glanced at the priest, but continued in his most academic voice.  “Beowulf is only one example, of course.  The concept is also prevalent in various Nordic, Celtic, and Germanic epic traditions.  Even Japanese and Arabic literature are rife with examples.”  “Exactly.”  Carwyn nodded along.  “See, modern professional wrestling is following in a grand epic tradition.  Doesn’t matter if it’s staged, and it doesn’t matter who wins, really—” “Well, I don’t know about—” “What matters,” Carwyn shot his friend a look before he continued, “is that the warriors impress the audience as

I am as much a scholar as a warrior. T'isten'ur — a name with curious echoes. Tiste Andii, the Dwellers in Darkness. And, more rarely mentioned, and then in naught but fearful whispers, their shadow-kin, the Tiste Edur. Grey-skinned, believed extinct — and thankfully so, for it is a name sheathed in dread. T'isten'ur, the first glottal stop implies past tense, yes? Tlan, now T'lan — your language is kin to that of the Imass. Close kin.

When I first saw [James Baldwin] on television in the early sixties, I felt immediately a kinship with this man whose anger and disappointment with America's contradictions transformed his face into a warrior's face, whose tongue transformed our massacres into triumphs. And he left behind a hundred TV deaths: scholars, writers, teachers, and journalists shipwrecked by his revivals and sermons. And the Black audiences watched and shouted amen and felt clean and conscious and chosen.

Where others only see coal, I see diamonds. Where others only see clouds, I see sunshine. Where others only see storms, I see rainbows. Where others only see thorns, I see roses. Where others only see seeds, I see harvests. Where others only see catapillars, I see butterflies. Where others only see cubs, I see lions. Where others only see darkness, I see stars. Where others only see wood, I see fire. Where others only see sparks, I see flames. Where others only see winters, I see summers. Where others only see frowns, I see smiles. Where others only see sorrows, I see joys. Where others only see nights, I sees days. Where others only see burdens, I see blessings. Where others only see hindrances, I see helpers. Where others only see enemies, I sees friends. Where others only see choas, I sees opportunity. Where others only see losses, I see gains. Where others only see crosses, I sees crowns. Where others only see warriors, I see generals. Where others only see learners, I see teachers. Where others only see followers, I see leaders. Where others only see scholars, I see professors. Where others only see soldiers, I sees commanders. Where others only see preachers, I see popes. Where others only see priests, I see prophets. Where others only see lawyers, I see judges. Where others only see students, I see masters. Where others only see outlaws, I see conquerors.

The Tang Dynasty has always held a special lure for me. This was a time when women rose to the highest ranks as warriors, courtesans and scholars. Anyone with the will and the perseverance to excel could make it. The imperial capital of Changan emerged as a cosmopolitan center of trade and culture. The most famous love stories, the most beautiful poetry and the most elegant fashions came from this era. The Silk Road which connected East to West was at its height during the eighth century and the empire embraced different cultures to a greater extent than ever before. I wanted to know what it was like to wear silk and travel to the edges of the empire during this golden age. And I wanted sword fights!

The highest knowledge is still no match for the lowest wisdom. The highest fame is still no match for the lowest influence. The highest weakness is still no match for the lowest strength. The highest loss is still no match for the lowest win. The highest opinion is still no match for the lowest fact. The highest immitation is still no match for the lowest original. The highest pleasure is still no match for the lowest purpose. The highest talent is still no match for the lowest genius. The highest theory is still no match for the lowest proof. The highest want is still no match for the lowest need. The highest mind is still no match for the lowest soul. The highest technology is still no match for the lowest miracle. The highest darkness is still no match for the lowest light. The highest devil is still no match for the lowest angel. The highest vice is still no match for the lowest virtue. The highest Hell is still no match for the lowest Heaven. The highest priest is still no match for the lowest prophet. The highest scholar is still no match for the lowest sage. The highest warrior is still no match for the lowest conqueror. The highest lawyer is still no match for the lowest judge. The highest politician is still no match for the lowest activist. The highest follower is still no match for the lowest leader. The highest student is still no match for the lowest teacher. The highest disciple is still no match for the lowest master.

Sherman was a warrior, not a scholar, but he thought deeply about the issues posed by war. The Marches were to Sherman fundamentally a moral expression of Union military power, even a moral equivalent of battle. That is to say, they were designed to humiliate the South and especially secessionist leaders, to humble its swaggering warriors, and to leave them in a state of despair contemplating unavoidable defeat. As the South had been humiliated, Northern arms should henceforth be treated with respect. The Marches thus sought a propaganda or moral victory aimed at the Confederate military and civil will. They would reveal to the world, not only to the South, that a tremendous change had occurred in the Civil War's military balance. Despite its redoubtable resistance throughout 1864, any Confederate success would prove transient⁠—another road pointing to defeat.

For instance, many scholars surmise that the Hindu caste system took shape when Indo-Aryan people invaded the Indian subcontinent about 3,000 years ago, subjugating the local population. The invaders established a stratified society, in which they – of course – occupied the leading positions (priests and warriors), leaving the natives to live as servants and slaves. The invaders, who were few in number, feared losing their privileged status and unique identity. To forestall this danger, they divided the population into castes, each of which was required to pursue a specific occupation or perform a specific role in society. Each had different legal status, privileges and duties. Mixing of castes – social interaction, marriage, even the sharing of meals – was prohibited. And the distinctions were not just legal – they became an inherent part of religious mythology and practice.

Not all of the sources I found agreed. A Greek scholar said that only a holy warrior could use it, but one of the early Phoenicians talked about it like anyone could use it. It had popped up in the hands of heroes of most religions, from the early Greeks to the Mesopotamians, even before the Hebrews told the story of Samson. All the sources I could find in Dr. C's library did agree on one thing. No matter what name you used for the Divine, the Maxilla was the concentrated wrath of God, straight up Old Testament-style ass-kicking in a box. It had brought down kingdoms, allowed warriors to kill dozens of men in battle on their own, and slain some of the scariest-sounding monsters I'd ever read about. It had only fallen into the hands of agents of Hell twice. Both times, it had been found somehow, and heads had literally rolled. But while it was lost to Hell, the world had really, really sucked. The first time had been before the rise of Lemuria, and the second time had kicked off the fall of Rome. No pressure.

You can challenge a leader without challenging his authority, challenge a priest without challenging his integrity, challenge a warrior without challenging his intensity, challenge a scholar without challenging his education, challenge a guru without challenging his counsel, challenge a professor without challenging his lectures, challenge a student without challenging his potentiality, challenge a prophet without challenging his reputation, challenge a teacher without challenging his lessons, challenge a scientist without challenging his discoveries, challenge an inventor without challenging his ingenuity, challenge a preacher without challenging his sermons, challenge a laywer without challenging his strategy, challenge an athlete without challenging his capacity, challenge an artist without challenging his mastery, challenge a general without challenging his command, challenge a ruler without challenging his influence, challenge a president without challenging his government, and challenge a king without challenging his supremacy.

You know those short, brown-toned South American immigrants that pick your fruit, slaughter your meat, and bus your tables? Would you—a respectable person with a middle-class upbringing—ever consider going on a date with one of them? It's a rude question, because it affects to inquire into what everyone gets to know at the cost of forever leaving it unspoken. But if you were to put your unspoken thoughts into words, they might sound something like this: Not only are these people busing the tables, slaughtering the meat, and picking the fruit; they are the descendants of the people who bused the tables, slaughtered the meat, and picked the fruit of the Aztecs and Incas. The Spanish colonisers slaughtered or mixed their blood with the princes, priests, scholars, artisans, warriors, and beautiful women of the indigenous Americas, leaving untouched a class of Morlocks bred for good-natured servility and thus now tailor-made to the demands of an increasingly feudal postindustrial America. That's, by the way, part of the undertow of the immigration debate, the thing that makes an honest appraisal of the issue impossible, because you can never put anything right without first admitting you're in the wrong.

Even human bones are not exempt from male-unless-otherwise-indicated thinking. We might think of human skeletons as being objectively either male or female and therefore exempt from male-default thinking. We would be wrong. For over a hundred years, a tenth-century Viking skeleton known as the ‘Birka warrior’ had – despite possessing an apparently female pelvis – been assumed to be male because it was buried alongside a full set of weapons and two sacrificed horses.11 These grave contents indicated that the occupant had been a warrior12 – and warrior meant male (archaeologists put the numerous references to female fighters in Viking lore down to ‘mythical embellishments’13). But although weapons apparently trump the pelvis when it comes to sex, they don’t trump DNA and in 2017 testing confirmed that these bones did indeed belong to a woman. The argument didn’t, however, end there. It just shifted.14 The bones might have been mixed up; there might be other reasons a female body was buried with these items. Naysaying scholars might have a point on both counts (although based on the layout of the grave contents the original authors dismiss these criticisms). But the resistance is nevertheless revealing, particularly since male skeletons in similar circumstances ‘are not questioned in the same way’.

Any nation that draws too great a distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.

I am the Grand Marquis Fornas, leader of twenty-nine of Hell’s legions, corrupter of the sciences, defiler of the experiments, and despoiler of the philosophies. I am a warrior, a poet, a scholar, and your doom.

Sometimes, down in the subway, a train Maxine's riding on will slowly be overtaken by a local or an express on the other track, and in the darkness of the tunnel, as the windows of the other train move slowly past, the lighted panels appear one by one, like a series of fortune-telling cards being deal and slid in front of her. The Scholar, The Unhoused, The Warrior Thief, The Haunted Woman... After a while Maxine has come to understand that the faces framed in these panels are precisely those out of all the city millions she must in the hour be paying most attention to, in particular those whose eyes actually meet her own - they are the day's messengers from whatever the Beyond has for a Third World, where the days are assembled one by one under non-union conditions. Each messenger carrying the props required for their character, shopping bags, books, musical instruments, arrived here out of darkness, bound again into darkness, with only a minute to deliver the intelligence Maxine needs. At some point naturally she begins to wonder if she might not be performing the same role for some face looking back out another window at her.

What are you saying?” Roine asked. Tan looked over at his mother, at Cianna, even over to Vel. Would they be ready for what he suspected would come? Now that the Utu Tonah knew of the draasin, only the kingdoms stood between him and the power he sought. Too many shapers had died battling Incendin for them to be ready. Tan sighed, feeling along his bonds. To Asboel, injured and curled up in his den. To Honl, swirling around him, hiding around Tan. To Amia, safely in Ethea. After all that he’d been through, all he wanted was peace. A chance for he and Amia to be together. Time for him to understand the bond he shared with Asboel and with Honl. Instead, they faced the possibility of a worse attack than Incendin. But it was the reason the Mother had given him his gifts. Tan was certain of that now. And how long had he wondered why he was able to not only shape all the elements, but speak to the elementals? And he began to understand what had driven Incendin to seek power, even what might have driven the ancient scholars to seek the power of the artifact. As much as he might want to avoid using it, would he have any choice were he to save those he cared about? “War is coming, Roine. And I don’t think the kingdoms are ready.

A mechanically minded intellect, a seasoned soldier, a code breaker and expert strategist, a Chinese scholar, a Buddhist monk, a bandit chief, and an Englishwoman more at home on horseback than in a salon. All talking battle strategy. It sounded like the beginning to a bizarre joke.

Small pioneer towns were often collections of men that believed in similar ideas,prayed to the same God, and brought their families along to build civilization on the plains or desert. They had to trust one another with their lives and their families' lives. These men had set roles to play, but could trust in one another to defend the territory and respect each other's rights and privileges. Just as not all men can be warriors, priests, or scholars, the Männerbund allows for specialization and a network of skilled and reliable men. A hierarchy will form and plans can be executed because order is found within the Männerbund.

Kate, you are not going in there." Her stubborn gaze met his. "You need me in there with you, and we both know it." "Out of the question! You listen to me, young lady," her father blustered. "That evil place took your mother from me. I'll not lose you, as well!" "Papa, you know I have to do this. You can't stop me. This is my decision." "It's madness!" Gerald cried, paling. "What are you trying to prove? It won't bring her back!" "I know that, but at least then I will have some answers. This is the reason you made sure to have me educated like a son, remember? I can do this, Papa. Rohan, I'll be waiting in the boat." "You are staying here," he replied. Anger flashed across her face. "Haven't you two realized yet that you don't run my life? That place killed my mother! Besides, I have a right---the Alchemist is my ancestor, not yours---and also, I'm the only one who has figured out the clues." "Kate, I don't know what sort of deviltry I may face in there. I'm sorry, but this time, considering I have no idea what I'm getting into, I don't want to be responsible for having to protect you." "With all due respect, Your Grace, I'm the one who'll be protecting you on this occasion. You're a warrior, not a scholar, Rohan. I've been studying this book, and I've already decoded the clues. You don't stand a chance without me." "Just give them to me." "No! I'm going with you. Now, if you prefer to survive the fiendish obstacle course that lies beyond that cave, quit wasting time arguing with me, because my mind will not be changed. For that matter, the Prometheans will be here soon. So, let's go!" With that, she pivoted on her heel and marched off toward the small-boat. Once more, she had left him and her father stymied, not sure what to say. "She's very determined," Rohan finally muttered. "Wish I could say she takes after her mother, but I'm afraid she's a bit too much like me." "You think?

Athena was a pre-Greek divinity, honoured by the native Europeans whom the Greeks called Pelasgians, ‘neighbours.’ Like Medusa, she was originally a great cosmic Goddess of heaven and earth, the deity of life, death and regeneration who was venerated in Old Europe for thousands of years. She is connected by some with the North African Goddess Neith and with the Mesopotamian Inanna, known for her descent to and return from the underworld. Patriarchal portrayals of Athena emphasize her warlike aspect (and there is evidence that her warrior traits were later acquisitions), and some pacifist feminist scholars find Athena problematic for this reason. It is beyond the scope of this paper to attempt to resolve the question of the origin of Athena’s warrior nature—Medusa may also have been a woman warrior, perhaps a North African Amazon priestess and queen.

I think we can either take the thing that makes us different and let the wishes for normalcy steal from us, or accept it and learn to use it. I think the people that have made the biggest differences in the world, were able to do so because they were, in fact, different. If everyone were the same, we would have no leaders, no warriors, no scholars, no beauty, no art. Can you imagine how boring the world would be?

Now, whenever she smelled the gums, the balsams, and the special aromatics that arrived with merchants from afar, her head reeled with images of temples, shrines, palaces, fortresses, mysterious walls, tapestries, paintings, jewels, liquors, icons, drugs, dyes, meats, sweets, sweetmeats, silks, bolts and bolts of cotton cloth, ores, shiny metals, foodstuffs, spices, musical instruments, ivory daggers and ivory dolls, masks, bells, carvings, statues (ten times as tall as she!), lumber, leopards on leashes, peacocks, monkeys, white elephants with tattooed ears, horses, camels, princes, maharajah, conquerors, travelers (Turks with threatening mustaches and Greeks with skin as pale as the stranger who had befriended her at the funeral grounds), singers, fakirs, magicians, acrobats, prophets, scholars, monks, madmen, sages, saints, mystics, dreamers, prostitutes, dancers, fanatics, avatars, poets, thieves, warriors, snake charmers, pageants, parades, rituals, executions, weddings, seductions, concerts, new religions, strange philosophies, fevers, diseases, splendors and magnificences and things too fearsome to be recounted, all writhing, cascading, jumbling, mixing, splashing, and spinning; vast, complex, inexhaustible, forever.

The Kazantzakis statue shows an animal (Circuit I), a warrior above the animal (Circuit II), a scholar above the warrior (Circuit III), a lover (Circuit IV), a face in agony (“chemicalization” the “Dark Night of the Soul,” the “crossing of the Abyss” which equals the entry to Circuit V the hard way), a face in bliss (successful Circuit V reimprinting) and a man turning into pure spirit (Circuit VII). Circuit VI is missing in the schemata, as Circuit IV is missing in Jung, and everything above Circuit III is missing in Carl Sagan.

Juna and her sisters and their mother had studied Latin with a young woman who had been a scholar at the University of Salamanca, Beatriz Galindo. Beatriz had an excellent command of Latin, and people were impressed with Juana’s adept facility with the language of diplomancy.

The Bedu of Central Arabia herded camels in empty deserts where there were no mosques or schools. They produced warriors, not scholars, and their understanding of Islam was limited. The original idea behind the Ikhwan, or Brotherhood Movement, was to settle the Bedu in order to improve their religious practices.

just returned from one odyssey, one voice raged within her, the one she called the Princess because it was her selfish, petulant side. Must I set out on another? Have I not been subjected to enough? Then a second voice, the one she called the Scholar, replied, You knew what you were letting yourself in for when you chose this profession. A warrior knows little peace. The Princess countered, But did I really choose this profession, or did it choose me? According to the legend, the Chosen are born blessed. If that is true, then I never really had a choice at all, did I? I was never consulted before this burden was dumped on me. I never asked for any of this. Oh, cease this infernal whining, a third voice, the Instructress, intruded. Stop chasing your tail and accept it like a lady. Whether you are blessed or cursed matters not. The simple fact is that you alone possess the means to face this problem. Stand tall and proud and cope with it. All of this philosophizing will accomplish nothing. You know as well as I that if you do not seek Anlon out he will probably come looking for you. Do you want that man, unhinged by his own gift and possibly with an army at his back, to come calling on you here, in the midst of everything and everyone you love? Perhaps, a fourth voice, the one Aleena called the Little Girl because it represented the childlike optimism in her, he will not go to all the trouble of hunting me out. Perhaps he will be content to take his anger out on opponents in the arena.

As divine dancer and herbinger of auspiciousness, the devadasi was the devotee's conduit to God. She was in a sense the high priestess, end out with powers to sanctify everything she touched. While ancient queens are supposed to have been brave warriors, and even scholars, the truly evolved and educated women emerged with the Bhakti movement of medieval India. They were the devadasis. They were the women of pride.

TZN acknowledges that during its peak institutional period, Zen had close affiliations and received significant support from the elite classes in both China (among scholar/officials and literati during the Sung dynasty) and Japan (among samurai and those affiliated with the newly dominant Hōjō and Ashikaga warrior clans during the Kamakura and Muromachi eras, respectively). Even Dogen, known for his integrity and commitment to reclusion, could not have established Eiheiji temple without the benefaction of his chief patron, the one-eyed samurai retainer Hatano Yoshishige. The positive side of maintaining these connections is that Zen learned a mastery of organizational structure and techniques for community relations and outreach. Furthermore, the historical development of Zen in medieval Japanese society was somewhat different than in China, as Zen monks also formed strong affinities with outcasts and the downtrodden.

Placing and implementing black magic is a suicide that results in hell.” --- The black magic that evil-minded people of all religions practice for their ugly and inhuman motives. The modern world ignores that and does not even believe in it. However, it exists, and it works sufficiently. For many years, I edited and published these stories as an assistant editor for an evening newspaper, and as a believer, I believe that. It’s important to note that it doesn’t have any impact on everyone; otherwise, every human would be under attack from it. No one can explain or define black magic or similar practices. Today’s scientists are not capable of recognizing, diagnosing, or even denying such a phenomenon; therefore, options are open for black magic to proceed with its practices without any obstacles. By searching online websites and YouTube, one can uncover the many victims of the evil practices of evil-minded individuals in different societies. Evil power, black magic, and magic do exist and are also effective. Evil power causes physical damage and appears as diseases and psychological issues since no one can realize, trace, or prove that horror practice; it is the secret and privilege of evil-minded people that the law fails to catch and punish them for such crimes. I briefly exemplify two events, one of which was very authentic, and I suffered from it, and another of which also happened to someone who also became a victim. The first time when I arrived in the Netherlands, I assumed I was in the most secure area; however, within a year, I faced an incident that was a tradition in my family, including the involvement of my brothers and my compatriots who lived in the Netherlands. The most suspected were the evil-minded people of the Ahmadiyya movement from Surinam and possibly my ex-wife and a Pakistani couple. I had seen the evidence of the black magic that my family took upon me, but I could not trace the reality of other suspected ones that ruined my career, future, health, and even life. The second person, a Pakistani who lived in Germany for several years as an active member of the Ahmadiyya Movement, told me his story briefly during a trip to London, attending a literary gathering. Besides receiving a gold medal for his poetry work, he also worked for the Ahmadiyya TV channel. However, when he became a real Muslim, Ahmadiyya warriors turned against him. They practiced the devil’s work to punish him when they couldn’t force him back into their false group. The symptoms of magic became apparent to me after he mentioned that since I had them on my body as well. Such a possibility and chance exist that can be created by using drugs and chemicals to defeat their opponents; it needs a comprehensive investigation to save humanity. Multiple other stories reveal that the Ahmadiyya Movement may use black magic to achieve its goals. From my observation, they were involved in eliminating Muslim imams and scholars, which caused the failure of that new religion and the appearance of a false prophet claiming to be Jesus. I have been a victim of these types of practices. Their activities revolve around social media and similar websites. In Pakistan, they are deceiving the uninformed by pretending to be genuine Muslims, just like they do in Europe and other parts of the world. I tried to contact the Dutch authorities about the incident that occurred to me in 1980, but they ignored my request for cooperation; however, I still hope and look forward to any miracle that someone from somewhere gives me the courage to verify all this I want.

But Old Testament scholar Gerhard von Rad points out the uniqueness of the Hebrew Scriptures.218 There we read that creation was the result of one all-powerful God without a rival, who made the world not in the way a warrior wins a battle but more as an artist crafts something of wonder and beauty. As an artist, he creates for the sheer joy of it (Prov 8:27–31). And therefore the world has a pattern to it, a fabric. A fabric is a complex underlying designed order or structure. Biblical wisdom, according to von Rad, is to “become competent with regard to the realities of life.”219 Since the world was made by a good and righteous God, the fabric of the world has a moral order to it. That order is not based on power but on righteousness

In the same year, Musashi adopted another son, but this time it was a blood relative. Iori was the second son of Tahara Hisamitsu, Musashi’s older brother by four years, and he was retained to serve the Akashi daimyō, Ogasawara Tadazane. With his newly adopted son gainfully employed, Musashi became a “guest” of Tadazane and moved to Akashi. Iori was clearly a gifted young man, and five years later, at the age of twenty, was promoted to the distinguished position of “elder” of the domain. As a guest in the Honda house in Himeji and then the Ogasawara house, Musashi cultivated his artistic expression. He started studying Zen, painting, sculpture and even landscape design, and fraternized with distinguished artists and scholars such as Hayashi Razan. He had a free hand to do as he liked, and he liked to be creative. Having just emerged from an era of incessant warfare, proficiency in the more refined arts had become once again a desirable attribute in high society. It was during this period that Musashi realized how the various arts had much in common in terms of the search for perfection. He understood that the arts and occupations were “Ways” in their own right, by no means inferior to the Way of the warrior. This attitude differs from writings by other warriors, which are typically underpinned by hints of exclusivity, even arrogance, toward those not in “Club Samurai.” That said, the ideal of bunbu ryōdō (the two ways of brush and sword in accord) had long been a mainstay of samurai culture. Samurai literature from the fourteenth century onwards exhibits a concern for balancing martial aptitude with the refinement in the genteel arts and civility; namely an equilibrium between bu (martial) and bun (letters or the arts). For example, Shiba Yoshimasa’s Chikubasho (1383) admonishes the ruling class to pay attention to matters of propriety, self-cultivation, and attention to detail. “If a man has attained ability in the arts, it is possible to ascertain the depth of his mind, and the demeanor of his clan can be ascertained. In this world, honour and reputation are valued above all else. Thus, a man is able to accrue standing in society by virtue of competence in the arts and so should try to excel in them too, regardless of whether he has ability or not… It goes without saying that a man should be dexterous in military pursuits using the bow and arrow…” This was easier said than done in times of constant social turmoil and the chaos of war, but is exactly what Musashi turned his attention to as he entered the twilight years of his life. His pursuit for perfection in both military arts and other artistic Ways is perhaps why he is so revered to this day.

They offer several recommendations to shore up important elements of American civil-military relations, including better scholar and journalist policing of politicization of the military by politicians

Any nation that draws too great a distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.” We

Any nation that draws too great a distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.” We all need courage and wisdom. Compassion and strength.

Everyone can learn. We can all cultivate our character. People of action require a sound and a strong will as much as a healthy body. "Any nation that draws too great a distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools. We all need courage and wisdom. Compassion and strength...realize the potential of the present, we need to heed the wisdom of the past.

The new world ronin is a warrior, a scholar and a businessman. The

The MCWW’s maneuver warfare and its legacy has positioned the Corps and its warriors/ scholars into the future as the nation’s “Force in Readiness” worldwide. No other branch of service in the United States can make that claim. More than lip service has been paid to a transition to Boyd’s maneuver warfare and the advantages derived from this type of thought and engagement by a small amphibious fighting force.

The mujahid, the scholar who practices what he preaches, the worshipper, the leader, the warrior, the reviver, the descendant from the family of the Prophet, the slave of Allah.

Throughout history the church has always zeroed in on “ezer” (pronouncedazer with a long sounding ¯a, as in razor) as the preFall piece of Eve that defines a woman’s role and remained intact despite her sin. God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper [ezer] suitable for him” (Genesis 2:18). The meaning of ezer, however, was diminished when translators rendered it “helpmeet” and restricted it to marriage.4 A woman’s mission centered on home and family — vital spheres of ministry to be sure, but only a slice of the vast mission God originally cast by calling women to rule and subdue the earth. Thinking regarding the ezer began to change when scholars pointed out that the word ezer is used most often (sixteen of twenty-one occurrences) in the Old Testament to refer to God5 as Israel’s helper in times of trouble. That’s when ezer was upgraded to “strong helper,” leaving Christians debating among themselves over the meaning of “strong” and whether this affects a woman’s rank with respect to the man. Further research indicates ezer is a powerful Hebrew military word whose significance we have barely begun to unpack.6 The ezer is a warrior, and this has far-reaching implications for women, not only

The man whom the Renaissance later presented as a monster of cruelty and perversion was a mass of contradictions. He was astute, brave, and highly impulsive – capable of deep deception, tyrannical cruelty, and acts of sudden kindness. He was moody and unpredictable, a bisexual who shunned close relationships, never forgave an insult, but who came to be loved for his pious foundations. The key traits of his mature character were already in place: the later tyrant who was also a scholar; the obsessive military strategist who loved Persian poetry and gardening; the expert at logistics and practical planning who was so superstitious that he relied on the court astrologer to confirm military decisions; the Islamic warrior who could be generous to his non-Muslim subjects and enjoyed the company of foreigners and unorthodox religious thinkers.

Soldiers dropped their weapons and fled. Others remained, frozen with terror. Sazed stood at their back, between the horrified soldiers and the mass of skaa. I am not a warrior, he thought, hands shaking as he stared at the monsters. It had been difficult enough to stay calm inside their camp. Watching them scream—their massive swords out, their skin ripped and bloodied as they fell upon the human soldiers—Sazed felt his courage begin to fail. But if I don’t do something, nobody will. He tapped pewter. His muscles grew. He drew deeply upon his steelmind as he dashed forward, taking more strength than he ever had before. He had spent years storing up strength, rarely finding occasion to use it, and now he tapped that reserve. His body changed, weak scholar’s arms transforming into massive, bulky limbs. His chest widened, bulging, and his muscles grew taut with power. Days spent fragile and frail focused on this single moment. He shoved his way through the ranks of soldiers, pulling his robe over his head as it grew too restrictive, leaving himself wearing only a vestigial loincloth. The lead koloss turned to find himself facing a creature nearly his own size. Despite its rage, despite its inhumanness, the beast froze, surprise showing in its beady red eyes. Sazed punched the monster. He hadn’t practiced for war, and knew next to nothing about combat. Yet, at that moment, his lack of skill didn’t matter. The creature’s face folded around his fist, its skull cracking. Sazed turned on thick legs, looking back at the startled soldiers. Say something brave! he told himself. “Fight!” Sazed bellowed, surprised at the sudden deepness and strength of his voice. And, startlingly, they did.

The crescent moon goddess (and virgin warrior Goddess of the morning star), Al-Uzza, was known to the pre-Islamic Arabs as "The Mighty". Some scholars believe that in very ancient times, it was she who was considered enshrined in the black stone of Makkah, where she was served by priestesses. Her sacred grove of acacia trees once stood just south of Makkah, at Nakla. The Acacia tree was sacred to the Arabs who made the idol of Al-Uzza from its wood.

Upon the blessing of Nimander, for his service to Mother Dark, all land holdings had been relinquished to Mother Dark, and all those Tiste born to the bloodline, and their attendant staff, warriors, mendicants and scholars, now served her, taking the name of Andii, Children of Night.

You must read to become a scholar, but you must also train to become a warrior.

he might not really think anything of the risks you’d be taking. I thought it was worth reminding him. I still do.” “Not so many risks,” Sophia said, her voice falling as she looked into the fire. She’d made her choices long ago. Few men wanted a scholarly wife, and her studies had left little time for courtship. In the right frame of mind, she counted herself lucky that she’d had the choice to make, that with one daughter married and two sons, her family had been both able and inclined to allow for an unwed scholar.

The Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, of Washington, DC, conservative cold warriors, in one of their Cold War International History Project Working Papers (no. 58, p. 9) states: ‘The open border in Berlin exposed the GDR [East Germany] to massive espionage and subversion and, as the two documents in the appendices show, its closure gave the Communist state greater security.’ Throughout the 1950s, the East Germans and the Soviet Union repeatedly lodged complaints with the Soviets’ erstwhile allies in the West and with the United Nations about specific sabotage and espionage activities and called for the closure of the offices in West Germany they claimed were responsible, and for which they provided names and addresses. Their complaints fell on deaf ears. Inevitably, the East Germans began to tighten up entry into the country from the West, leading eventually to the infamous Wall. However, even after the wall was built there was regular, albeit limited, legal emigration from east to west.

Let me hit you with one other local legend, one that might seem particularly pertinent to the moment. Right next door to Turkmenistan is Uzbekistan, where, in 1940, Western scholars discovered the oral history of the Karakalpak people. They shared an epic, 20,000-line poem about a legendary group of warriors, called the Kirk Kuz, who would have been active in the early 1700s. There were forty of these warriors, and they were unparalleled in everything: horse-riding, marksmanship with a bow and arrow, throwing axes and knives, sword-fighting and every martial art imaginable. Strength, agility, cunning, nerves of steel—the DNA of these warriors had to be a double helix of sheer concentrated lethality. They repelled invading hordes and every man in every direction feared the ruthless, silent efficiency of the Kirk Kuz warriors. What makes the Kirk Kuz different is that they were all women, yet another group that may have inspired the legend of the Amazons. They only left their sisters in death or marriage.