#fight

This is good, life must continue, we are fighting barbarians, but we must remain human. ↗

— David Benioff

#fighting-evil #war #life

The only animal capable of giving man a fair fight is man. Actually, among ourselves, we fight unfairest of all, and the more we practice, the nastier we get. ↗

— Robert Buettner

#fighting #human-nature #human-superiority #humanity #unfairness

My goal is not to frighten you. My goal is to make you fight your fears. ↗

— Moffat Machingura

#courage #fear #fears #fight #fight-your-fears

I have something to fight for and live for; that makes me a better killer. I've got what amounts to a religion now. It's learning how to breathe all over again. And how to lie in the sun getting a tan, letting the sun work into you. And how to hear music and how to read a book. What does your civilization offer? ↗

— Ray Bradbury

#fight-for #live-for #religion #sun #music

You don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened. ↗

— John Green

#joh-green #nerdfighters #remember

Christ girl, Ι wasn't even going to bite you. Well, not the way you're thinking." "I'm flattered you want to fuck me as well as muder me. Really, Liam, that's sweet." He grinned. "Valentine's Day was just last month, after all. ↗

— Jeaniene Frost

#fight #ian #christ

You must tell Lady Alanna that sometime. I'd do it from a distance. ↗

— Tamora Pierce

#daine #fighting #misogyny #owned #immortality

Hamlet promised himself he’d throw down afterward, but I think perhaps when he said, “From this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!” the limits of blank verse weakened his resolve somehow. If he’d been free to follow the dictates of his conscience rather than the pen of Shakespeare, perhaps he would have abandoned verse altogether, like me, and contented himself with this instead: “Bring it, muthafuckas. Bring it. ↗

— Kevin Hearne

#fight #hamlet #conscience

You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it. ↗

— Margaret Thatcher

#fight #may #more #once #than

She stood up and took the book from him, and as he smiled over his shoulder at some other kids, she threw it away and kicked him as hard as she could in the vicinity of the groin. Well, as you might imagine, Ludwig Schmeikl certainly buckled, and on the way down, he was punched in the ear. When he landed, he was set upon. When he was set upon, he was slapped and clawed and obliterated by a girl who was utterly consumed with rage. His skin was so warm and soft. Her knuckles and fingernails were so frighteningly tough, despite their smallness. You Saukerl." Her voice, too, was able to scratch him. "You Arschloch. Can you spell Arschloch for me? ↗

— Markus Zusak

#fight #thief #imagination