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Quote by Sir Walter Scott

“I tell thee, proud Templar, that not in thy fiercest battles hast thou displayed more of thy vaunted courage than has been shown by woman when called upon to suffer by affection or duty.”

Quote by Sir Walter Scott

Book:Ivanhoe

Work

Ivanhoe

Ivanhoe is a historical novel by Sir Walter Scott, published in 1820. The story is set in medieval England and follows the exploits of Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe, a knight of the Round Table, as he seeks to win the hand of Lady Rowena and restore his honor after being dishonorably discharged from the Crusades. The novel is renowned for its vivid portrayal of medieval chivalry, its romantic elements, and its exploration of themes such as love, honor, and betrayal. more

Author

Sir Walter Scott

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“Life was never about survival. For a long time, it was proposed that all living organisms shared a single purpose: to survive—but this was not the appropriate case for humans. Survival was all along but a secondary basis to man, while attendance to life was the first. One must secure something to survive for, as the cells of the straightforward body will, regardless of permission, do their job. Men do not breathe without air first around to inhale. A sailor cannot know his passion for sailing without an existing body of water. Similarly, a man can only survive if there is something larger in him that lives—not a beating heart, but a moving one. If he only “holds on,” prolonging preservation and supervising health, there is nothing in that lingering lifeform to endanger or threaten. And since no system of security can defend from death’s next play, there is no use in mortals wearing armor. The essence of chance had loitered since the beginning of time, anticipating a being who adhered to its expressions. The human priority is one’s comet.”

“The children who played the Scorpion game in daycare knew the point. Before the beach, Andrei walked past a group of little boys and girls through the front window. He spectated their game. The kids were placed within a circle marked on the ground as a boundary. One blindfolded child played the Scorpion. And then the Scorpion violently tagged each student they found, eliminating the group one by one. The game would eventually end. The Scorpion would eat everyone. Andrei watched the children choose their mortal dance and run carefully in all directions. Then the circle of watchers applauded the child who won— that was, the timid, clever boy who had laid down patiently on the floor, away from the Scorpion, as still as a manhole cover. The unseen kid held his breath in the name of survival for the duration of the game. Though there was one player who moved unlike the rest. Bless that spirit who dared to dance teasingly in front of the Scorpion, inspect the circle to learn its space, had fleeting looks of love with other bugs, and was the only one to know what it felt like to belt their endangered voice in a loud, delightful cry toward the heavens. The dancing crier was killed. But the shy, certain statue of a boy died twice.”

“I realised that I did not want only to imagine, as a normal person might be satisfied with doing. They had roused within me a wild desire to be like them, to be them, to find the pleasure that they had found – a dark forbidden pleasure – and to act with the same beautiful voracity, the same unbounded passion as they had acted, showing neither shame nor fear nor uncertainty, only the most primal of desires.”