Breastplate Armor Quotes

#1. The candles illuminated the room and his murals of tattoos...There were muscles everywhere, protruding from his skin and framing him like armor; his body was long and wide, full of valleys, deep creases and ink. He looked like a deviant. A beautiful, dangerous deviant. #Quote by -Latrivia Nelson Dmitry's Closet

#2. The inspiration starts with the armor my parents collected. The references are subtle, whether in the mix of textures (woven, quilted, pleated) or in the tapestry brocades and florals. The focus is on clean, strong silhouettes with bold embellishments. Accessories reflect the mood - belts with chain details, lace-up ghillie heels and muffs. #Quote by Tory Burch

#3. Unwinter did not wind his Horn or glance back. He did not lift an armored hand to summon his knights. He did not command them to follow. And yet. The whisper became a rustle, the rustle deepened to a throbbing, the throbbing swelled into a roar. The highborn fullbloods of Unwinter, pale and wasted, sallied forth clasped in their own black armor, riding by two and three on the nightmare mounts enticed from the Dreaming Sea's foaming edge. #Quote by Lilith Saintcrow

#4. Maybe time didn't heal wounds exactly, but it gave you a kind of armor, or a new perspective. A way to remember with a smile instead of a sob. #Quote by Kristin Hannah

#5. The children in my dreams
speak in Gujarati
turn their trusting faces to the sun
say to me
care for us nurture us
in my dreams I shudder and I run.
I am six
in a playground of white children
Darkie, sing us an Indian song!
Eight
in a roomful of elders
all mock my broken Gujarati
English girl!
Twelve, I tunnel into books
forge an armor of English words.
Eighteen, shaved head
combat boots -
shamed by masis
in white saris
neon judgments
singe my western head.
Mother tongue.
Matrubhasha
tongue of the mother
I murder in myself.
Through the years I watch Gujarati
swell the swaggering egos of men
mirror them over and over
at twice their natural size.
Through the years
I watch Gujarati dissolve
bones and teeth of women, break them
on anvils of duty and service, burn them
to skeletal ash.
Words that don't exist in Gujarati :
Self-expression.
Individual.
Lesbian.
English rises in my throat
rapier flashed at yuppie boys
who claim their people "civilized" mine.
Thunderbolt hurled
at cab drivers yelling
Dirty black bastard!
Force-field against teenage hoods
hissing
F****ing Paki bitch!
Their tongue - or mine?
Have I become the enemy?
Listen:
my father speaks Urdu
language of dancing peacocks
rosewater fountains
even its curses a #Quote by Shailja Patel

#6. Misanthropy is a suit of armor lined with thorns. #Quote by Marie Von Ebner-Eschenbach

#7. No matter how many hundreds of weapons or armor one is equipped with, they are no match for that "one special spear" that comes from your guts. #Quote by "The Black Leg" Zeff

#8. I feel like the knight in an ancient romance as, wrapped in his shining armor, after performing a thousand astonishing feats throughout the world, he meets a ragged, starving herdsman, who, never leaving his pasture, subdues and controls horrible beasts with his bare hands, and with prodigious courage. #Quote by Elena Ferrante

#9. After a beat, he revealed a crack in his armor. The tiniest of smiles. "What?" she asked. Rocking back on his heels, Jacin rested his hand on the knife again. "I wasn't sure what kind of girl could make a special op go ballistic over her. I'm glad to see it's not the stupid kind." She #Quote by Marissa Meyer

#10. During mission planning, we had intelligence concerning dogs that might impede our goal and were part of the target's contingencies. The exact method used to neutralize aggressive dogs in the field is classified information. However, Special Ops has some really incredible dogs. In fact, during the raid to kill Osama bin Laden, the highly trained men of SEAL Team Six had with them a uniquely trained dog as part of the mission. SEAL canines are not your standard bomb-sniffing dogs. The dog on the bin Laden mission was specially trained to jump from planes and rappel from helicopters while attached to its handler. The dog wore ballistic body armor, had a head-mounted infrared (night-vision) camera, and wore earpieces to take commands from the handler. The dog also had reinforced teeth, capped with titanium. I would not want to try the techniques this book recommends on this dog. Thank God he's on our side. #Quote by Cade Courtley

#11. He's going to be as useful as nipples on a breastplate. #Quote by George R R Martin

#12. We must be sober and put the armor of faith and love on our chests, and put on a helmet of the hope of salvation. 1 Thessalonians 5:8 #Quote by Beth Moore

#13. In the history of the world the prize has not gone to those species which specialized in methods of violence, or even in defensive armor. In fact, nature began with producing animals encased in hard shells for defense against the ill of life. But smaller animals, without external armor, warm-blooded, sensitive, alert, have cleared those monsters off the face of the earth. #Quote by Alfred North Whitehead

#14. Milord, Knight in Shining Armor, methinks thou hast a present in thy chamber. #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#15. Take the armor off, so the arrow of the Truth can penetrate you. #Quote by Adyashanti

#16. My father wears his faith like the bronze breastplate of God's footsoldiers while our mother's is more like a good cloth coat with a secondhand fit. #Quote by Barbara Kingsolver

#17. However vivid they might be, past images and future delights did not protect Sylvia from the present, which "rules despotic over pale shadows of past and future". That was Sylvia's genius and her Panic Bird- her total lack of nostalgia. She had no armor. This left her especially vulnerable in New York, where she was removed from the context of her life, severed from that reassuring arc. #Quote by Elizabeth Winder

#18. I don't want a knight in shining armor.
I don't want a knight in scuffed armor.
I want his helmet to have dents. I want my knight to be real, and dark and savage. I want my knight to be a survivor. Someone who's been tested and got through his trails. Not some pussy in gleaming metal. #Quote by Belle Aurora

#19. Tarquin turned from the table, just as the tent flaps parted for a pair of broad shoulders -

Varian. He didn't so much as look at his High Lord, his focus going right to where Amren sat at the head of the table. As if he'd sensed she was here - or someone had reported. And he'd come running.

Amren's eyes flicked up from the Book as Varian halted. A coy smile curved her red lips.

There was still blood and dirt splattered on Varian's brown skin, coating his silver armor and close-cropped white hair. He didn't seem to notice or care as he strode for Amren.

And none of us dared to speak as Varian dropped to his knees before Amren's chair, took her shocked face in his broad hands, and kissed her soundly.
...
None of us lasted long after dinner.

Amren and Varian didn't even bother to join us.

No, she'd just wrapped her legs around his waist, right there in front of us, and he'd stood, lifting her in one swift movement. I wasn't entirely sure how Varian managed to walk them out of the tent while still kissing her, Amren's hands dragging through his hair, letting out noises that were unnervingly like purring as they vanished into the camp.

Rhys had let out a low laugh as we all gawked in their wake. "I suppose that's how Varian decided he'd tell Amren he was feeling rather grateful she ordered us to go to Adriata."

Tarquin cringed. "We'll alternate who has to deal with them on holidays. #Quote by Sarah J. Maas

#20. The boy who wears his comic books like armor often sits
alone. He is more comfortable with Iron Man and his
own thoughts than he will ever be with a woman.
Because of his nervous ticks, no matter how long they
are together, she will never feel commonplace to him.
She will always know she is special.
The boy who wears his comic books like armor
tries to tell her that he loves her every day.
She does not understand.
When he says, You remind me of Psylocke,
he is not saying he actually thinks
she is a scantily clad assassin.
He is just saying, Damn girl, you must be psychic.
How else could you always know the right thing
to make me smile? You have to be a ninja.
How else could you have stolen my heart so easily?
He is saying, Dammmmmmmmnnnnnn girl,
you absolutely have to be Psylocke!
She is the only character I have ever read about
who is as graceful and daring as you are.
She does not understand.
The boy who wears his comic books like armor
is not a good lover. The way he barely touches
her makes her feel unattractive.
Like he is only doing this because she wants him to.
This could not be further from the truth.
He is simply treating her like the only thing
that has ever been this important to him before:
comic books.
He removes her clothes like he would
the slipcover from a brand new issue,
as careful not to wrinkle her clot #Quote by Jared Singer

#21. Vader completed his meditation and opened his eyes. His pale, flame-savaged face stared back at him from out of the reflective black transparisteel of his pressurized meditation chamber. Without the neural connection to his armor, he was conscious of the stumps of his legs, the ruin of his arms, the perpetual pain in his flesh. He welcomed it. Pain fed his hate, and hate fed his strength. Once, as a Jedi, he had meditated to find peace. Now he meditated to sharpen the edges of his anger. #Quote by Paul S. Kemp

#22. Sixty-two years passed since that battle, I can remember it as if it was yesterday. It made me the king I am now, not with the power of swords, but with the power of words.
Enemies invaded our land like black death until they reached our city. My father, the king, was preparing for the final battle; even women were given swords and asked to fight. It was a battle like no other battle; we fought like Titans not humans, and we crushed our enemies although they outnumbered us.
" The king is wounded ! The king is wounded ! " shouted one of the soldiers . I rushed towards the source of the sound to find my father bleeding on the ground, I tried to take off his armor but he refused and asked me to get closer to him. He squeezed my arm with his old hand and said :

"Don't build your life on illusions,
Don't build your opinion on hypotheses,
Don't build your style on imitation,
Don't build your image on lies,
Don't build your respect on fear,
Don't build your dreams on others' nightmares,
Don't build your friendships on benefits,
Don't build your heroism on foolish acts,
Don't build your kingdom on the backs of the poor,
Don't build your palace on the soft sands of injustice"

Then he looked up to the sky and closed his eyes forever.
He left me a kingdom in ruins, but left me the richest king. #Quote by Muhammad Nusair

#23. Your knight in shining armor doesn't have to come flanked with money, or with the answers to all your problems, he doesn't even have to rescue you, but your well-being should mean just as much to him, as it does to you, and even more so when you don't mean much to yourself. #Quote by Ty J. Snow

#24. Cyra," Akos said, and it was the only time I had ever wished he wasn't there. He touched my shoulders, lightly, sending the shadows away. He had cold hands. A light touch.
"I'm fine," I said, running my fingers over my silver throat.
"You don't have to be fine right now."
The silverskin reflected the muted light that had crept into this half-destroyed place.
In a small, quiet voice, I asked the question that was buried deep inside me. "Am I ugly now?"
"What do you think?" he asked, and not like it was a rhetorical question. More like he knew I didn't want him to placate me, so he was asking me to think about it. I lifted my eyes to the mirror again.
My head did look strange with only half my hair, but some people in Shotet wore their hair this way, shaved on one side and long on the other. And the silverskin looked like a piece from the armor that my mother had collected in her seasons of sojourning. Like the armor on my wrist, I would always wear it, and it would make me feel strong.
I found my own eyes in the glass.
"No," I said. "I'm not."
I didn't quite mean it yet, but I thought maybe, over time, I might start to.
"I agree," he said. "In case that wasn't clear from all the kissing we've been doing. #Quote by Veronica Roth

#25. I don't need saving –
I'm not your damsel in distress
And you're not my knight in tarnished armor.
.....
Don't spare me,
Certainly don't protect me,
I won't break. #Quote by Jenn Waterman

#26. Here's what I love: when a great writer turns me into a Jew from Chicago, a lesbian out of South Carolina, or a black woman moving into a subway entrance in Harlem. Turn me into something else, writers of the world. Make me Muslim, heretic, hermaphrodite. Put me into a crusader's armor, a cardinal's vestments. Let me feel the pygmy's heartbeat, the queen's breast, the torturer's pleasure, the Nile's taste, or the nomad's thirst. Tell me everything that I must know. Hold nothing back. #Quote by Pat Conroy

#27. She sat up, cheeks flushed and golden hair tousled. She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache. I always wished desperately that I could paint her in these moments and immortalize that look in her eyes. There was a softness in them that I rarely saw at other times, a total and complete vulnerability in someone who was normally so guarded and analytical in the rest of her life. But although I was a decent painter, capturing her on canvas was beyond my skill.
She collected her brown blouse and buttoned it up, hiding the brightness of turquoise lace with the conservative attire she liked to armor herself in. She'd done an overhaul of her bras in the last month, and though I was always sad to see them disappear, it made me happy to know they were there, those secret spots of color in her life. #Quote by Richelle Mead

#28. Is it nonsense," I asked, managing to suppress what I felt - "is it nonsense when he says that the tassets and cuissards of the enamelled suit of armor commonly known as the 'Prince's Emblazoned' can be found among a mass of rusty theatrical properties, broken stoves, and rag-picker's refuse in a garret in Pell Street? #Quote by Robert W. Chambers

#29. She looked at me. "What? Is there something wrong with my idea?"
"It's not very heroic," I said dismissively. "I was expecting something with a little more flair."
"Well, I left my armor and warhorse at home," she said. "You're just upset because your big University brain couldn't think of a way, and my plan is brilliant. #Quote by Patrick Rothfuss

#30. We're all stuck in armor of a kind. Yours is merely easier to find. #Quote by Robert Fisher

#31. The armor separated him from the galaxy, from everyone, made him singular, freed him from the needs of the flesh, the concerns of the body that once had plagued him, and allowed him to focus solely on his relationship to the Force. #Quote by Paul S. Kemp

#32. What. Are. Thooooooose?" the walrus moaned.
On the holo-screen airing the happenings in Genevieve Square, a swarm of scorpspitters released by the Glass Eyes was scuttling toward Alyss and the other. Never before had a Wonderlander seen these scorpion-like contraptions that could bullets of deadly poison from their "tails"
not even Bibwit, who assumed they were the latest in a long line of armaments invented by Redd. But before a single scorpspitter curled its tail into a C to take aim at the queen, she imagined into existance a horde of disembodied boots with steel-plated soles, which hovered monetarily in the air, then
With a slight nod, she brought them down hard, stomping the scorpspitters flat, squishing their armor-crapaces and making absract art of their wiry guts.
Ooh, now why can't Queen Alyss do that to the Glass Eyes?" the walrus-bulter cried. #Quote by Frank Beddor

#33. It would have been easy for Theo to grow ironic. He could walk through life with a paradoxical chip on his shoulder, with skin like armor. But Alice did not want to raise a boy who looked at life askew. Alice wanted her son to greet the day with elation. She wanted to raise her boy into a wholesome man. #Quote by David Paul Kirkpatrick

#34. I don't actually remember if I was able to get a firebolt off. I have a vague memory of seeing orange light splatter harmlessly against a spiked breastplate, but that might just have been sparks from all the metal rubbing against metal. Then there was a sound rather like a bag of wet laundry being hurled across a gravel driveway, and that was the first time I died. #Quote by Yahtzee Croshaw