Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Paragon. 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 Paragon Quotes And Sayings by 85 Authors including Christopher Paolini,Emily Dickinson,John Milton,Jorge Amado,Alfred Lord Tennyson for you to enjoy and share.
Keep in mind, Eragon, that no one thinks himself a villain, and few make decisions they think are wrong. A person may dislike his choice, but he will stand by it because, even in the worst circumstances, he believes that it was the best option available to him at the time.
Other Courtesies have been -
Other Courtesy may be -
We commend ourselves to thee
Paragon of Chivalry.
Rose out of Chaos:
She was a glass snake. She wasn't poisonous but she sowed affliction just by going among men-mysteriously, like a miracle" (385)
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
Knight of the Ill-Favored Face.
Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you?
Military glory
that attractive rainbow, that rises in showers of blood
that serpent's eye, that charms to destroy ...
I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.
You see, I know you, Violet. You've tormented me in my dreams with your body too many times to count. Now you're here in the flesh, with your ripe curves and innocent eyes, an angel hidden in the body of a temptress.
Ack! Parables. I hate parables.
version of Amber.
Jacian Obregon. It sounds like a melody. Or a tragedy.
you are ares' lost sister.
goddess of sedated battles and lost girls.
always full of other people and never yourself.
Lunar. Cyborg. Fugitive. Outlaw. Outcast.
Fictions, whoppers and paradiddles.
A cross between two species. Doomed with the thirst of the undead for human blood, yet tormented by the gargoyle drive to protect them.
you will be attacked by evil and fast triangles. Domination:
I am Ares! I am a murderer too!...And what do we do with to murderers?
Dante, or the hyena that writes poetry in tombs.
Sable-vested Night, eldest of things.
I see the world through a diaphanous curtain of blood.
A faint tickling on the back of his right hand caused Eragon to look down. A huge, wingless cricket clung to his glove. The insect was hideous: black and bulbous, with barbed legs and a massive skull-like head. Its carapace gleamed like oil.
Tritons Trident!
Violet, the amethyst, signified love and truth; or passion and suffering.
Vogons are not above a little bribery and corruption in the same way that the sea is not above the clouds,
I began to understand that glory was a Gorgon who could turn you to stone if you failed to continue to perform
Villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption;
Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man;
Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that sing my heart;
Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas.
You're mad."
"Like all the sons of Sarras."
-PENDRAGON'S HEIR
So you're the infamous Acheron. (Amanda)
Lord and Master of the great barbarian horde that roams the night. (Acheron)
Eros is my sun, Ares is my fire, but Hephaestus is my rock, my foundation, and no matter where I go or what I do, I will always come back to him. I know that now.
incurable lover of the grotesque
The moon rose, an opalescent goddess tipping light from her harsh maternal scimitar.
Metaraon, with his unmerciful stare,
A chemical weevil," said Jesper, "But Wylan still hasn't named it. My vote is for the Wyvil."
"That's terrible," said Wylan.
"It's brilliant," Jesper winked. "Just like you.
What's your name?
Um ...
Think about it. You don't get to pick again.
Tris.
ALEXAS
Gracious Queen, even Herod of Judea wouldn't dare look at you unless you were in a good mood.
Cyphus bears the blue flame. Stercus is in thrall of iron. Ferule chill and dark of eye. Usnea lives in nothing but decay. Grey Dalcenti never speaks. Pale Alenta brings the blight. Last there is the lord of seven: Hated. Hopeless. Sleepless. Sane. Alaxel bears the shadow's hame.
Your face was furrowed by the plow of grief, and blood flowed freely from Your thorn-crowned brow; such
Liz Gorman, a fiery redhead, had been one of the founding members of the Raven Brigade.
Maureen had been born with the face of a gargoyle on the body of a sylph.
The Green-eyed Monster causes much woe, but the absence of this ugly serpent argues the presence of a corpse whose name is Eros.
You're beautiful in battle," said Dimitri. His cold voice carried to me clearly, even above the roar of combat. "Like an avenging angel come to deliver the justice of heaven."
"Funny," I said, shifting my hold on the stake. "That is kind of why I'm here."
"Angels fall, Rose.
Beelzebug n. Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
I am become a blade.
Psst"he called.
The Cyclops lowered his hammer. He turned towards Zeus, but his one big eye had been staring into the flames so long that he couldn't see who was talking.
"I am not Psst"The Cyclops said " I am Brontes"
Oh boy, Zeus thought. This may take a while
Gobartes the son of Artabazos
Who do I look like, Nancy freaking Drew?
Blood fills my mouth. Fire sears my veins. I choke back a howl. The silver knife slips
the
choice is mine.
I am death or life. I am salvation or destruction. Angel or demon.
I am grace.
I plunge in the knife.
This is my sacrifice
I am the monster.
The Herondales are a rather infamous line, as you probably know. Many of them heroes, some of them traitors, so many of them brash, wild creatures consumed by their passions, whether it be love or hate.
The child's cry
Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame
Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame
That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom
Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom,
And makes one blot of all the ayr
Why was I not made of stone like thee?
Quasimodo[to a gargoyle on the ramparts of Notre Dame as Esmeralda rides off with Gringoire].
You are the sacred consummation of the sun and the moon and the shadow and you will become the poison of death. [Sylvian]
From my birth I have aspired like the eagle - but unlike the eagle, my wings have failed ... Congratulate me then that I have found a fitting scope for my powers.
On no account allow a Vogon to read poetry at you.
Thou wretched pillar of syphilitic pheasant-fuck!
This is the Malachai? (Jericho)
In all his pain in the ass glory. (Acheron)
Are we through now, Dad? Can I go play with my friends if I promise to be a good boy? I'll even try and make it home by curfew. (Nick)
Styx was sin; Rider was peace.
But least is he who, with enchanted eyes
Filled with high visions of fair shapes to be,
Muses which god he shall immortalize
In the proud Parian's perpetuity,
Till twilight warns him from the punctual skies
That the night cometh wherein none shall see.
[H]istory is a melodrama on the theme of parasitism, characterized by scenes that are exciting or dull, as the case may be, and many a sudden stagetrick.
The dead praetor raised his sword. 'Our desires reveal us. They show us for who we really are. Someone has come come for you, Jason Grace.
A trained bus thrower like Gabriel, or Robin Hood wannabe like Scarlet, or a ninja assassin like Tristan
I am Celaena Sadorthein and I will be not afraid
I'd been declared - over my loud and sustained protests - Pythia, the chief seer of the supernatural world.
Upon that foreign soil he chose
Died he! For ever laid
Low, in the kindly shade,
He left behind no tearless grief,
No measured mourning, dull and brief,
These eyes are wet
With weeping yet,
Nor know I how to find relief."
Antigone
I don't like sycophants. Unless you're a cat.
I am a fading phantasmagoria. Time has left me in partial glory.
I assume he is the one unfortunate enough to be called Ptolemus.
I took him by the arm to steady him. He opened his eyes slowly, the bright golden gleam now darkened with pain and sorrow. "Morgian!' he uttered, his voice strangled with grief. "It was Morgian ...
- John is a dangerous fanatic.
- And you are not ? - asked Dagon.
- I'm just dangerous.
Ares ever loves to pluck all the fairest flower of an armed host.
Mirrors in metal, and the masked
Mirror of mahogany that in its mist
Of a red twilight hazes
The face that is gazed on as it gazes
I'm Phoenix. The mythical bird that rises from the ashes. I've risen from fear and grief, from scandal and suffering, and from the crushing loneliness of walking with a purpose that is outside myself, but not within me. I know what's within me now, and I'm ready to fly again.
Tim Thornton's portrait of a pop culture obsession is so convincing that one can't help wishing that his fictional alt rock band actually existed, or suspecting that they did. The Alternative Hero is a weirdly compelling portrait of fanatic fandom which reads like High Fidelity at high volume.
I have a paralyzing fear of snakes.
You bear a sword and shield, remind me
of her labor, her stoning gaze. What beast
will your blade free next? What call will you loose
from another woman's throat?
I hereby certify that the bearer of this note, Nikolai Ivanovich, spent the night in question at Satan's ball, having been lured there in a transportational capacity ... Hella, put in parentheses! And write 'hog.' Signed- Behemoth.
Posthumous: It sounds like the name of a Roman gladiator, an unconquered gladiator. At least that's what poor Posthumous would like to believe. It gives him courage.
Remorseless time! fierce spirit of the glass and scythe,
what power can stay him in his silent course, or melt his iron heart with pity!
The Paralympians have lifted the cloud of limitation.
Phaedra: I wanted to see your face when you came.
Hippolytus: Why?
Phaedra: I'd like to see you lose yourself.
Hippolytus: It's not a pleasant sight.
Phaedra: Why, what do you look like?
Hippolytus: Every other stupid fucker.
Eyes like amber cast in sun, skin and hair of firelit gold. Formed to war, courage as none, beauty to behold.' You are Reginleit the Radiant.
To read Helen Macdonald's memoir, H Is for Hawk, is to feel as though Emily Bronte just turned up at your door, trailing all the windy, feral outdoors into your living room.
The Last Unicorn
Reaper of enemies; strong of grip; One kind with his fathers.
What fools these mortals be. (Acheron)
The hawk is on my fist. Thirty ounces of death in a feathered jacket; a being whose world is drawn in plots and vectors that pull her towards lives' ends.
We are creatures of loss; we have left everything behind. I have no home, no path, and no certainty. I am no longer Tris, the selfless, or Tris, the brave. I suppose now, I must become more than either.
Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud;
Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
Trusty, dusky, vivid, true,
With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,
Steel-true and blade-straight,
The great artificer made my mate.
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.
I am Celaena Sadorthien and I will not be afraid
A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift.
But when they got up early the next morning, there was Dagon, fallen with his face to the ground before the ark of the Lord. This
Country IX. The Gorgon's Head X. Two Promises XI. A Companion Picture XII. The Fellow
Ah, come now. I look like an angel, but I'm not. The old rules of nature encompass many creatures like me. We're beautiful like the diamond-backed snake, or the striped tiger, yet we're merciless killers
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
Fire-breathing bitch-queen.
Iridescent with fancy and winged it with paradox.