Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Morgead. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Morgead Quotes And Sayings by 90 Authors including Seanan Mcguire,Matthew Arnold,Charles Dickens,Marion Zimmer Bradley,George Gordon Byron for you to enjoy and share.
Nameless McBitchypants
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, Where the winds are all asleep; Where the spent lights quiver and gleam; Where the salt weed sways in the stream.
Town VIII. Monseigneur in the Country IX. The Gorgon's Head
I should know, for I am Morgaine le Fay, priestess of the Isle of Avalon, where the ancient religion of the Mother Goddess is born.
Gwynned lies two days westwards; still further south, the weregeld calls. Mayhap with All-Father Woden's favour, my deeds may yet inspire the skalds.
Hissy, hissy, little snakey, Slither on the floor, You be good to Morfin Or he'll nail you to the door.
Every morn is a fresh beginning, Every morn is the world made new,
I am Mardrae. Even dead Mardrae will speak their minds. Now go away. You are giving me a headache.
Are you . . . are you the athask? The great one?" "Maybe," said Mogget. "I can't remember." "Mogget,
You never tire of the moor. You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it contains. It is so vast, and so barren, and so mysterious.
My mom stares at him in disbelief. "This is thanks to your schemes. You pressured her to choose you ... to choose Wonderland over her other side. What did you think would happen?"
Morpheus hunches lower, miserable.
The sands have run through, you have but moments, make peace with your gods.
'Aelfric of the Green Isle
EXTINCTATHON, Monitored by MaddAddam. Adam named the living animals, MaddAddam names the dead ones. Do you want to play?
Tell me what it is, or prepare to eat harpoon.
In the capacious urn of death, every name is shaken.
[Lat., Omne capax movet urna nomen.]
I am Valentine's son. Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. You never had any right to that name. You're a ghost. And a pretender.
Did you ever go to a place ... I think it was called Norway?" "No," said Arthur, "no, I didn't." "Pity," said Slartibartfast, "that was one of mine. Won an award, you know. Lovely crinkly edges. I was most upset to hear of its destruction.
The dew-bead Gem of earth and sky begotten.
Seek for the Sword that was broken In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isuldur's Bane shall waken, And the halfling forth shall stand.
Mawidge is a dweam wiffin a dweam. The dweam of wuv wapped wiffin the gweater dweam of everwasting west. Eternity is our fwiend, wemember that, and wuv wiw fowwow you fowever.
Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend,
But to procrastinate his lifeless end.
Underworld butt.
Sala-manda-stron, look out here we come,
A thief a warrior and a mole.
Though the quest may take its toll,
We'll march until we reach our goal,
But Mithgar ... Mithgar is yet wild, tempestuous, unkept, savage, turbulent, exciting. We come here to feel alive.
Tell mea tale from the days when shadow cloaked the land, when the Dark Crystal and its missing shard had not yet been reunited.
Wanderers eastward, wanderers west,
Know you why you cannot rest?
'Tis that every mother's son
Travails with a skeleton.
Lie down in the bed of dust;
Bear the fruit that bear you must;
Bring the eternal seed to light,
And morn is all the same as night.
I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares," Mor said. "So I got out.
Mort isn't my name, of course - I was creative director of mortality, and Dr. Jeth had us all go by titles.
Morn, Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand Unbarr'd the gates of light.
Over the obsidian hills and the sunken yellow dale, through the vast oceans of fog and the fires of nevermore, sits the fickle doors of the land of twilight. I will traverse it all, and execute righteous judgment on all that oppose me.
shadow of authority
On a snowy winter morning, Martise of Neith - once of Asher - opened a gate and awakened darkness.
Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand; For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
Under the Mountain dark and tall The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall.
The rooftops of Ankh-Morpork sprouted a fine array of gargoyles even in normal times, but now they were alive with as ghastly an array of faces as ever were seen outside a woodcut about the evils of gin-drinking among the non-woodcut-buying classes.
Mort(e) is wonderful and weird, never saccharine and always startling.
I'd have felt better with Morgen to talk to, to help, but all I had was memory and a soulsong to help me with our ancient cousins from across the stars, cousins so willful they could not see. Cousins even more willful than the ancient heroes my mother had bequeathed to me.
heights th' immortal Gods, Jove
In the eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.
Morning. Vast. Imprecision. Fog has covered everything in gray
absolute. This has lasted. Doubt looms over the mind. Absence
is harder to accept than death.
In Town VIII. Monseigneur in the Country IX. The Gorgon's Head X. Two Promises XI. A Companion Picture
Gundhrold's head lowered until his massive beak was only inches away from Amos's nose. "I am a son of the desert. This was once my home - the home of all my kind. I know every crag, every slope, every crick and hollow-"
Amos rolled his eyes. "Every blatherin' speck o' sand?
No surname? Or is Thorn it?"
"Thorn is all anyone needs to know about me."
"As in thorn up all our collective nether regions," Devyl muttered.
A grey wrinkled vastness, like the residue of a dream
Far, far below the deepest delvings of the dwarves, the world is gnawed by nameless things.
The sky-like limpid eyes,
The circular infant's face,
The stiffness from spats to collar
Never relaxing into grace;
The heavy memories of Horeb, Sinai and the forty years,
Showed only when the daylight fell
Level across the face
Of Brennbaum "The Impeccable".
Morozova's stag. Rusalye. The firebird. Legends come to life before my eyes, just to die in front of me.
Mount You-Gotta-Be-Kidding-Me.
Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn.
I have graven it within the hills, and my vengeance upon the dust within the rock.
'Mullygrubber' is an Australian term which means something that creeps along the ground; it's like a little grub.
Each new morn
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yelled out
Like syllable of dolor.
Nyarlathotep ... the crawling chaos ... I am the last ... I will tell the audient void ...
O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the dewy grass; Night is worn; And the morn Rises from the slumbrous mass.
Sala-manda-strong>stronstrong>, look out here we come,
A thief a warrior and a mole.
Though the quest may take its toll,
We'll march until we reach our goal,
The living grave of crime.
O Mariner-soul, Thy quest is but begun, There are new worlds Forever to be won.
Aniimal Town:~) The place where Dreams & Adventures come true!
Palace of Crystal
Prema (love): practise that; develop that; spread that; and all the hatreds and jealousies of today will disappear. That is the duty of the Divine Life Society, here as well as elsewhere.
People often ask what I miss about Morrie. I miss that belief in humanity. I miss the eyes that could view life so encouragingly. And I miss his laugh. I really do.
Morfran thrust his axe straight up. He pretty much seemed to have one sign for everything: poke a hole in the sky.
Under the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.
Mammon, n. The god of the world's leading religion. His chief temple is in the city of New York
MOOSEN!!!!!!! There many MOOSEN in the WOODSEN! MANY MUCH MOOSEN! The Meisin wanted and the MOOSEN and ...
Death: the grand perhaps.
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
Wicked Abyss, page 279, Lila, Princess Calliope of Sylvan to Abyssian "Sian" Infernas, King of Pandemonia
"There's a face to the violence you love so much, a cost that the Morior never have to pay. Why wouldn't you love war? You never feel the toll like the rest of us.
If one does die taking these drugs, the death is likely to be very peaceful. Morphia is, after all, the goddess of dreams.
Reaper of enemies; strong of grip; One kind with his fathers.
HERE LIES BROM
Who was
A Rider bonded to the dragon Saphira
Son of Holcomb and Nelda
Beloved of Selena
Father of Eragon Shadeslayer
Founder of the Varden
And Bane of the Forsworn.
May his name live on in glory.
Stydja unin mo'ranr
Estragon: I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. That's where we'll go, I used to say, that's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy.
These Norsemen are excellent persons in the main, with good sense, steadiness, wise speech, and prompt action. But they have a singular turn for homicide; their chief end of man is to murder or to be murdered;
From the loins of Morrighan, Hope will be born. On its heels came a whispered name that was always just beyond my reach, not yet mine to hear, but I knew that one day my children's children or the ones who came after would hear it. One day hope would have a name.
I that in heill wes and gladnes Am trublit now with gret seiknes And feblit with infermite: Timor Mortis conturbat me.* * Fear of Death troubles me.
Wery weeny wight, plead for Morandmor! Notre Dame de la Ville, mercy of thy balmheartzyheat!
This tottered ensign of my ancestors
Which swept the desert shore of that dead sea
Whereof we got the name of Mortimer,
Will I advance upon these castle-walls.
Drums, strike alarum, raise them from their sport,
And sing aloud the knell of Gaveston!
It can't be," Udecht stammered. "Eadran the Vanquisher destroyed him near a millennium ago. Maelgrum is gone. Finished."
"My dear bishop, he isn't exactly alive, I grant you," the hooded medusa teased. "But he is certainly a lot less dead than you would like.
I'm sorry, Prince Edvard. You had a wonderful civilization here on Marduk. You could have made almost anything of it. But it's too late now. You've torn down the gates; the barbarians are in.
Tania, last time in Morozovo, I let you go, but not this time. This time we live together or we die together.
G.O.D Great Omnipresent Divinity
Merciless Mart, with its grand lobby. I glimpse the Abnegation
Maktub" (It is written.)
The grave unites; where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
There are high places that don't invite us, sharp shapes, glacier-scraped faces, whole ranges whose given names slip off. Any such relation as we try to make refuses to take ... I'm giddy with thinking where thinking can't stick.
No Names
The grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled, Shakes off her wonted firmness.
The murex Dr. Geffard keeps on his desk can entertain her for a half hour, the hollow spines, the ridged whorls, the deep entrance; it's a forest of spikes and caves and textures; it's a kingdom. Her
It was a land of shadows and ice.
Of gray. And grayer. And black.
-The Unseelie prison of Aedan
It must have been providence that directed Joel Morwood to dig in the right place, for he struck a lode of pure gold, as wide (comprehensive) as it is deep (profound). What he mined from that lode is a spiritual treasure.
Among the young ravens driven to roost awhile on Graydon's ark was James Andrew Manallace - a darkish, slow northerner of a type that does not ignite, but must be detonated. ("Dayspring Mishandled")
Morpheus turns his face to the sky. "I'm afraid you're the one who's mistaken, if you think I'm going to let Wonderland fall to rot so you can play 'pin the male on the virgin' with your mortal toy.
MACDUFF That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face! If thou beest slain, and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
God!...If only I had not read so much Egyptology before coming to this land which is the fountain of all darkness and terror!
A weathered skeleton
in windy fields of memory,
piercing like a knife.
The night below. We two. Crystal of pain.
You wept over great distances.
My ache was a clutch of agonies
over your sickly heart of sand.
We've seen firsthand the footprints of the Mordant's treachery.
My best friend, Pradeep, who lives next door, says that 'moron' is a big-brother word for little brothers. His brother Sanj, who's also mostly evil, calls him that too.
Direct me gods, whose changes are all holy, To where it flickers deep in grass, the moly.
What's your name?" Scapegrace asked.
"Gerald," said the man.
Scapegrace pondered. Gerald the zombie just didn't have that fear-inducing ring to it. "I'm going to call you Thrasher," he said.
Danzhol. The one with the marriage proposal and the objections to the town charter in central Monsea. "Bacon," Bitterblue muttered. "Bacon!" she repeated, then carefully made her way up the spiral stairs.