Sith Quotes

Looks like nobody’s home,” Puck said, turning in a slow circle. “Hellooooooooo? Anybody here?” “Be quiet, Goodfellow,” Ash growled, peering into the shadows with narrowed eyes. “We’re not alone.” “Yeah? How do you figure that, prince? I don’t see anyone.” “The cait sith has disappeared.” “ … Crap.

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.

Honor is a fool's prize. Glory is of no use to the dead.

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 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

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.

You have one Mord-Sith and one Mother Confessor, here, both in very bad moods. I would suggest you not give us an excuse to lose our temper, or we may never find it again in your lifetime.

The man he faced was everything Obi-Wan had devoted his life to destroying: Murderer. Traitor. Fallen Jedi. Lord of the Sith. NAd here, and now, despite it all... Obi-Wan still loved him

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

Hesitation is a mistake that invites defeat. I would not be Mord-Sith had I not hesitated when I was young." - Cara

Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

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.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken.

As you learn to be other than Mord-Sith, like I learned as I grew up, you'll find that being a friend is to like a person for who they are, even the parts you don't understand. The reasons you like them makes the things you don't understand unimportant. You don't have to understand, or do the same, or live their lives for them. If you truly care for them, then you want them to be who they are; that was why you liked them in the first place.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Remember why the Sith are more powerful than the Jedi, Sidious: because we are not afraid to feel. We embrace the spectrum of emotions, from the heights of transcendent joy to the depths of hatred and despair. Fearless, we welcome whatever paths the dark side sets us on, and whatever destiny it lays out for us.

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.

Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Code of the Sith

The training of a Mord-Sith takes years - to learn to handle the pain. I guess it's also why only women are Mord-Sith, men are too weak.

To believe in an ideal, is to be willing to betray it. It is something no Sith or Jedi has ever truly learned. -- Kreia, KOTOR 2

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

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.

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.

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.

W-what do you want?" I asked, thankful that my voice only trembled a little bit. That Cat Didn't blink. "Human," he said, and if a cat could sound patronizing, this one nailed it, "think about the absurdity of the question. I am resting in my tree, minding my own business and wondering if I should hunt today, when you come flying in like a bean sidhe and scare off every bird for miles around. Then, you have the audacity to ask what I want." He sniffed and gave me a very catlike stare of disdain. "I am aware that mortals are rude and barbaric, but still.

Thomas looked like he was about to talk some smack at the malk, but only for a second. Then he frowned and said, "It's odd. You sound like...like a grade-school teacher." "Perhaps it is because I am speaking to a child," Cat Sith said. "The comparison is apt." Thomas blinked several times and then he looked at me. "Did the evil kitty just call me a child?

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

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.

Equality is a myth to protect the weak. some of us are strong in the Force, others are not. Only a fool believes otherwise.

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.

It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore: For some, that hath abundance at his will, Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store; And other, that hath litle, askes no more, But in that litle is both rich and wise. For wisedome is most riches; fooles therefore They are, which fortunes doe by vowes deuize, Sith each vnto himselfe his life may fortunize.

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?

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

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...

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.

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.

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.

Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak. The Dark Side is about survival. It's about unleashing your inner power. It glorifies the strength of the individual.

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

Doing battle with the forces of… I was going to say evil, but I’m increasingly unsure exactly where everyone around me falls on the Jedi-Sith Index.

Where the Jedi courted power, the Sith lusted after it; where the Jedi believed they knew the truth, the Sith possessed it. Owned by the dark side, they ultimately became their knowledge.

Not sure. Using it is trickier than most people think," I said. "You've got to keep it from drying out, and you've got to get it undiluted. It was raining, so if someone wanted my blood, they'd have had to get to it pretty quick - and it looked like Sith was keeping them busy." "Sith?" Butters asked. "Not what you're thinking," I said. "Oh," he said, clearly disappointed.

When you finally betray me, I hope you care enough to try to kill my yourself.

The power of the dark side is an illness no true Sith would wish to be cured of.

when did Anakin's Jedi teachers know he was going bad? In the Sith grade.

Saved by the Sith.

If the Eagle Scouts had some sort of Sith equivalent, Marcone was it.

The dark side is emotion, Bane. Anger, hate, love, lust. These are what make us strong, Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Your passion is still there, Bane. Seek it out. Reclaim it.

My life ends only when my rage has been vented, when my need for vengeance is satisfied. It will be a long life.

Shoes were invented by the Sith to keep our delicate toes in anguish and misery, I'm sure of it." -Tahiri Veila (Edge of Victory: Conquest)

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.

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.

Hath not a Sith eyes? Hath not a Sith such feelings, heart and soul, As any Jedi Knight did e’er possess? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you Blast us, shall we not injur’d be? If you Assault with lightsaber, do we not die?

I have, in general, not had fun during my service as a Warden of the White Council. I have taken no enjoyment whatsoever in becoming a soldier in the war with the Vampire Courts. Doing battle with the forces of...I was going to say evil, but I'm increasingly unsure exactly where everyone around me falls on the Jedi-Sith Index.

What is thy body but a swallowing grave, Seeming to bury that posterity Which, by the rights of time, thou needs must have If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity? If so, the world will hold thee in disdain, Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.

Until the time is right, disappear we will.

No matter how the darkness grows, you are never alone.

Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out.

They knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than lovers; they were complementary halves of a single warrior.

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.

She stared up at Vader, unafraid."I hate you and everything you stand for" she said."But when I murdered, I murdered out of love" Vader raised his blade, his breathing loud and steady. When he spoke, his voice was as deep and hollow as a funeral gong. "I know precisely what you mean" he said and slashed.

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

Zedd planted his fists on his hips and turned a look on Cara. “Now Mord-Sith have become experts in magic. What next?” “A talking machine,” Nicci said.

An apprentice was unquestioningly loyal until the moment he wasn't. Both Master and apprentice knew this.

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

A memory stabbed him, as sharp as a blade. He’d floated alone in an escape pod over Ryloth once, spinning high over its surface, after crashing a cruiser into a droid control ship. Another name bobbed up and broke the surface of the sea of memory. Ahsoka. He’d called her “Snips” sometimes. He pushed the errant recollection aside and focused on his task.

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—

The newly created Darth Vader flexes his Force-muscle as the Emperor's enforcer to maintain order and obedience in a galaxy reeling from civil war and the destruction of the Jedi Order. To the galaxy at large, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker - the Chosen One - died on Coruscant during the siege of the Jedi Temple. And, to some extent, the was true - Anakin was dead. But from the site of Anakin Skywalker's last stand - on the molten surface of the planet Mustafa, where he sought to destroy his friend and former master, Obi-Wan Kanobi - a fearsome spectre in black has risen. Once the most powerful Knight ever known to the Jedi order he is not a disciple of the dark side, a lord of the dreaded Sith, and the avenging right hand of the galaxy's ruthless new Emperor. Seduced, deranged and destroyed by the machinations of the Dark Lord Sidious, Anakin Skywalker is dead ... and Darth Vader lives ...

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.

The snow wasn't deep - in many places its crust was firm enough that they actually walked on top of it - but the wind was surgical, a precision instrument with needles for teeth, and it found even the tiniest exposed places on her skin, attacking them.

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

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

Padmé

Jedi Master. What would happen if Luke ever came face to face with the Sith? If he hunted Luke down, looking for the droids, looking for the princess? Luke had had a few hours of training; Ben had had decades! And still Vader had cut the Jedi Master down with a single blow. Leaving…nothing.

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.

Vader had been a fire, a twisting sun-dragon that curled in the core of a star about to go nova. The Emperor, Palpatine, had been the exact opposite – he was ice, the terrifying cold of the bottom of an endlessly deep ocean, the abyssal plain, no hope; a cold so absolute, so ultimate, that all life withered in its presence.

Peace is a lie. There is only passion.                                   Through passion, I gain strength.                                   Through strength, I gain power.                                   Through power, I gain victory.                                   Through victory, my chains are broken. The Code of the Sith

A Jedi sufficiently strong in the Force can be trained to produce a facsimile, but not true Sith lightning, which, unabated, has the power not only to incapacitate or kill, but to physically transform the victim. Force lightning requires strength of a sort only a Sith can command because we accept consequence and reject compassion. To do so requires a thirst for power that is not easily satisfied. The Force tries to resist the callings of ravenous spirits; therefore it must be broken and made a beast of burden. It must be made to answer to one’s will.

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

Once, as a Jedi, he had meditated to find peace. Now he meditated to sharpen the edges of his anger.

The way to extinguish a shadow is to increase the light.

There is no passion. There is solely obsession. There is no knowledge. There is solely conviction. There is no purpose. There is solely will. There is nothing… Only me.

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.

Propelled by fear or hatred, even a Jedi can pass beyond the constraints of the Order’s teachings and discover power of a more profound sort. But no Jedi who arrives at that place, who has risen above his or her allegiance to peace and justice, who kills in anger or out of desire, can lay real claim to the dark side of the Force. Their attempts to convince themselves that they fell to the dark side, or that the dark side compelled their actions, are nothing more than pitiful rationalizations. That is why the Sith embrace the dark from the start, focusing on the acquistion of power. We make no excuses. The actions of a Sith begin from the self and flow outward. We stalk the Force like hunters, rather than surrender like prey to its enigmatic whims.

the scarred face of a clone, the features an echo of so many faces from Vader’s past. Rex. Cody. Fives. Echo. The roster of names moved through Vader’s mind, each of them a trigger for a memory, each of them a ghost from his past.

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?

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.

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

Wonder of time,' quoth she, 'this is my spite, That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light. 'Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy: Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend: It shall be waited on with jealousy, Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end, Ne'er settled equally, but high or low, That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe. 'It shall be fickle, false and full of fraud, Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while; The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile: The strongest body shall it make most weak, Strike the wise dumb and teach the fool to speak. 'It shall be sparing and too full of riot, Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures; The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet, Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures; It shall be raging-mad and silly-mild, Make the young old, the old become a child. 'It shall suspect where is no cause of fear; It shall not fear where it should most mistrust; It shall be merciful and too severe, And most deceiving when it seems most just; Perverse it shall be where it shows most toward, Put fear to valour, courage to the coward. 'It shall be cause of war and dire events, And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire; Subject and servile to all discontents, As dry combustious matter is to fire: Sith in his prime Death doth my love destroy, They that love best their loves shall not enjoy.

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.

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.

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.

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.

...Des felt a familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. All soldiers felt the same thing going into battle, whether they admitted it or not: fear. Fear of failure, fear of dying, fear of watching their friends die, fear of being wounded and living out the rest of their days crippled or maimed. The fear was always there, and it would devour you if you let it. Des knew how to turn that fear to his own advantage. Take what makes you weak and turn it into something that makes you strong. Transform the fear into anger and hate: hatred of the enemy; hatred of the Republic and the Jedi. The hate gave him strength, and the strength brought him victory. For Des the transformation came easily once the fighting started. Thanks to his abusive father, he'd been turning fear into anger and hate ever since he was a child. Maybe that was why he was such a good soldier. Maybe that was why the others looked to him for leadership.