Thor The Dark World Quotes

Here is your flaw, Shaitan, Lord of the Dark, Lord of Envy, Lord of Nothing, here is why you fail. It was not about me. It’s never been about me.” It was about a woman, torn and beaten down, cast from her throne and made a puppet. A woman who had crawled when she had to. That woman still fought. It was about a man that love repeatedly forsook. A man who found relevance in a world that others would have let pass them by. A man who remembered stories and who took fool boys under his wing when the smarter move would have been to keep on walking. That man still fought. It was about a woman with a secret, a hope for the future. A woman who had hunted the truth before others could. A woman who had given her live, then had it returned. That woman still fought. It was about a man whose family was taken from him, but who stood tall in his sorrow and protected those he could. It was about a woman who refused to believe that she could not help, could not heal those who had been harmed. It was about a hero who insisted with every breath that he was anything but a hero. It was about a woman who would not bend her back while she was beaten, and who shown with a light for all who watched, including Rand. It was about them all. ~Rand al Thor

There is nothing more reassuring than knowing that the world is crazier than you are.

Hyperion: We're going to die here today. Thor: Aye...But let it be on our terms. One more time. Our very...Huurggg!...best. (Thor is unable to lift the mjolnir from an alternate universe - Thorr's hammer of unworthiness) Thor: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! So be it. If this is the end let me not meet is as The Unworthy...but as my father's son. The occasion demands I offer you a drink, Hyperion, but unfortunately, I have none. Hyperion: That's because we drank it all, brother. Thor: Yes. We did.. Nothing left to do now but the other thing. Hyperion: I just want to say... for some time I believed I survived the death of two worlds -- now I know it just took a while to catch up with me. It's a dark thing, what my life became... you have made it better, Odinson. Will you wait for me in Valhalla? Thor: Brother... this day, I will race you there. *Against the bleak nothing of dead space, two gods fell to many. The sun shone one last time. There was lightning, and thunder... and then silence.*

Sometimes, too, we went out in the rubber boat to look at ourselves at night. Coal-black seas towered up on all sides, and a glittering myriad of tropical stars drew a faint reflection from plankton in the water. The world was simple - stars in the darkness. Whether it was 1947 B.C. or A.D. suddenly became of no significance. We lived, and that we felt with alert intensity. We realized that life had been full for men before the technical age also - in fact, fuller and richer in many ways than the life of modern man. Time and evolution somehow ceased to exist; all that was real and that mattered were the same today as they had always been and would always be. We were swallowed up in the absolute common measure of history - endless unbroken darkness under a swarm of stars.

A shepherd with a heron-mark sword," said a low, woman's voice. "That's almost enough to make me believe anything. What trouble are you in, downcountry boy?" Startled, Rand jumped to his feet. It was the crop-haired young woman who had been with Moiraine when he came out of the bath chamber, still dressed in a boy's coat and breeches. She was a little older than he was, he thought, with dark eyes even bigger than Egwene's, and oddly intent. "You are Rand, aren't you?" she went on. "My name is Min.

now; it was not then. Satisfied that he had cowed me sufficiently, he mounted his chariot and snapped the reins, flying back into the dark clouds that had concealed his approach. From that day to this I have mourned the loss of my unnamed friend and cursed the name of Thor. He ripped from me the wonder of the ocean; he stole from all men the knowledge of a world they can never inherit. The Finns may no longer

Coal-black seas towered up on all sides, and a glittering myriad of tropical stars drew a faint reflection from plankton in the water. The world was simple, stars in the darkness. Whether it was 1947 B.C. or A.D. suddenly became of no significance. We lived, and that we felt with alert intensity. We realised that life had been full for men before the technical age also - indeed, fuller and richer in many ways than the life of modern man. Time and evolution somehow ceased to exist; all that was real and all that mattered were the same to-day as they had always been and would always be; we were swallowed up in the absolute common measure of history, endless unbroken darkness under a swarm of stars.

It took two breaths for her vision to clear, and but one for her to realize the world was upside down, and someone—a man, judging by the thick calves before her—was standing very close to her. She was dripping wet and freezing cold. A shiver coursed through her, but the uncomfortableness was nothing compared with the pain in her head. Her blood seemed to be filling her entire face at a rapid pace. It whooshed in her ears. She tried to lift her head to see who stood in front of her, but it was useless. Her neck muscles refused to obey. The whooshing became a roar, and darkness began to eat at the corners of her vision. She struggled to form a call for help, but it was nearly impossible. Her tongue was in revolt, and sand seemed to line her throat. She swallowed and strangled out one word. “Help.” A grunt resounded above her, followed by a brown wooden bucket being set beside her head, and then a man appearing as he crouched. Well, not any man, but Thor MacLeod, her husband. He looked as unhappy to see her as she felt to see him. A grimace turned his lips down, his dark eyebrows almost touched in a V, and his eyes, well, his eyes had been transformed to a swirling, violent sea. Crimson smeared across his right cheek in an ominous path. “Hello, wife.” The last word rolled with distaste off his tongue. That was fine with her. She didn’t care to be wed to him either. “It seems wherever ye are trouble finds ye.” “And yet knowing this ye are so dimwitted as to seek me out,” she snapped as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She had to squeeze her eyes shut against it, while inhaling a breath as well as she could, given she was hanging upside down. And why was that? “Why am I upside down,” she demanded, cringing at the weakness of her tone. “One in yer position should nae have such a haughty tone,” the man shot back. She hated that he had a point. “What, pray tell, sort of tone would it please ye for me to take, my lord? If ye’ll tell me, I’ll do my best to adopt it,” she said, trying to sound genuinely like she cared, but she could hear herself, and she knew she’d failed miserably.

Rand thought his spirits had sunk as low as they possibly could, but at that they slid deeper. "There is a place of safety," Moiraine said softly, and Rand's ears pricked up to listen. "In Tar Valon you would be among Aes Sedai and Warders. Even during the Trolloc Wars the forces of the Dark One feared to attack the Shining Walls. The one attempt was their greatest defeat until the very end. And Tar Valon holds all the knowledge we Aes Sedai have gathered since the Time of Madness. Some fragments even date from the Age of Legends. In Tar Valon, if anywhere, you will be able to learn why the Myrddraal want you. Why the Father of Lies wants you. That I can promise.

Death comes sooner or later to everyone," the Warder said grimly, "unless they serve the Dark One, and only fools are willing to pay that price.

Death comes sooner or later to everyone, unless they serve the Dark One, and only fools are willing to pay that price.", the Warder said grimly.

In the north, in the Borderlands along the Great Blight, there is a saying. The look of the Eyeless is fear." "The Eyeless?" Rand said, and Lan nodded. "Myrddraal see like eagles, in darkness or in light, but they have no eyes. I can think of few things more dangerous than facing a Myrddraal. Moiraine Sedai and I both tried to kill, the one that was here last night, and we failed every time. Halfmen have the Dark One's own luck.

There is only one chance for that world where the young can have at least a little time to be innocent. The only way that world exists is if… there are hard men willing to do hard things in the dark of long nights when the illusion of a wall is all that keeps the madness at bay. If there are Rangers on that wall.

Help… that’s not what we did, in the Before, or now in the Ruin, Sato. That’s not what Rangers do, my friend.” “Then what did you do, Warrior?” Thor walked toward the door, a hulking shadow in the quiet dark of the empty tavern. “We showed up and we killed bad guys, Sato. And in doing so… made the world a better place for those just trying to live.

The end of time?" Ba'alzamon mocked. "You live like a beetle under a rock, and you think your slime is the universe. The death of time will bring me power such as you could not dream of, worm.

the end chaos would burst forth to overwhelm the order that the gods had made and preserved. In Midgard the end would begin with three winters of war and general lawlessness; men would fight without mercy, murder one another and betray their own kin through adultery and with violence. After this would come three years of winter, with the sun’s warmth weakened and terrible winds sweeping the earth so that its people died of hunger. Then the wolves that ran behind the moon and sun would overtake them, and darkness would fall on the land. ​In Asgard Loki would break from his bonds and so would his son, the wolf Fenrir.  In the depths of the sea Loki’s other monster-son, the Midgard Serpent, would rise in anger. The giants out of Jotunheim and the fire-demons out of Muspelheim would come to Loki’s call and attack the gods. The battle would be desperate. Thor would kill and be killed by the Midgard Serpent, and Heimdall the sentry of Asgard would kill and be killed by Loki. Odin would fight against the wolf Fenrir and die, but his son Vidar would destroy the wolf. At the end, when the best part of both armies lay dead, Surt the fire-bearer would come from the burning world of Muspelheim and set Asgard, Midgard and the World Tree itself ablaze. The sea would rise, churned up by the death-throes of the Midgard Serpent, and the ruined land would be drowned. ​But this destruction, while great and terrible, was not quite final. Out of the empty seas land would rise again and green plants would grow there; indeed, fine crops of grain would grow without any man tending them. Balder would return from the dead, Honir would return with the gift of prophecy added to his other strengths, and Thor’s sons would arise carrying their father’s great hammer. Soli would not return from death to drive the chariot of the sun but her daughter, even stronger and lovelier than she, would rise and give light to the worlds again. And a man and a woman, long concealed in a safe place hidden from the ruin, would emerge to drink of the dew and eat of the plants of the field and start the human race again. Some said also that the dead humans in Helheim would be raised to life again, but some said otherwise.

The world was full of people who would tell you what you wanted to hear. The valuable ones—the people worth holding on to—were those who told you what you needed to hear.

I bounded across Newbury Street, Jack sprang to full form in my hand. His blade—thirty inches of double-edged bone-forged steel—was emblazoned with runes that pulsed in different colors when Jack talked. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Who are we killing?” Jack claims he doesn’t pay attention to my conversations when he is in pendant form. He says he usually has his headphones on. I don’t believe this, because Jack doesn’t have headphones. Or ears. “Chasing assassin,” I blurted out, dodging a taxi. “Killed goat.” “Right,” Jack said. “Same old, same old, then.” I leaped up the side of the Pearson Publishing building. I’d spent the last two months learning to use my einherji powers, so one jump took me to a ledge three stories above the main entrance—no problem, even with a sword in one hand. Then I hop-climbed from window ledge to cornice up the white marble facade, channeling my inner Hulk until I reached the top. On the far side of the roof, a dark bipedal shape was just disappearing behind a row of chimneys. The goat-killer looked humanoid, which ruled out goat-on-goat homicide, but I’d seen enough of the Nine Worlds to know that humanoid didn’t mean human. He could be an elf, a dwarf, a small giant, or even an ax-murderer god. (Please, not an ax-murderer god.) By the time I reached the chimneys, my quarry had jumped to the roof of the next building. That might not sound impressive, but the next building was a brownstone mansion about fifty feet away across a small parking lot. The goat-killer didn’t even have the decency to break his ankles on impact. He somersaulted on the tar and came up running.

Chapter Nine Epilogue Photos from the Film PROLOGUE BAM!