Then the Warrior of the Light thanks his traveling companions, takes a deep breath and continues on, laden with memories of an unforgettable journey.
A Warrior knows that everything a person does has enduring consequences.
A Warrior also knows that the fool who gives advice about someone else's garden is not tending his own plants.
No one is entirely good or evil; that is what the Warrior thinks when he has a new opponent.
When he is forced to perform the same task several times, the Warrior uses this tactic and transforms work into prayer.
The Warrior knows the value of persistence and of courage.
A Warrior knows when a battle is worth fighting.
The Warrior of the light knows that when somebody wants something, the whole Universe conspires in their favor.
When the Warrior takes on a commitment, he keeps his word.
When he wins the battle, the Warrior celebrates.
A Warrior of the Light shares with others what he knows of the path.
The Warrior tries to enjoy the small everyday things of life.
A Warrior of the Light does not accept gifts from his enemy.
Often, warriors find their lives meaningless.
Like the fighter, the Warrior is aware of his own immense strength; he never fights with anyone who does not deserve the honor of combat.
Each Warrior of the Light contains within him the spark of God.
Sometimes the Warrior feels as if he were living two lives at once.
A Warrior trusts other people because, first and foremost, he trusts himself.
A Warrior of the Light cannot always choose his battlefield.
Defeat exists but not suffering. A true warrior knows that when he loses a battle, he is improving the skill with which he wields a sword. He will be able to fight more skilfullly next time.
That's why I want to speak to you now. To say: no person, trying to take responsibility for her or his identity, should have to be so alone. There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep, and still be counted as warriors. (I make up this strange, angry packet for you, threaded with love.) I think you thought there was no such place for you, and perhaps there was none then, and perhaps there is none now; but we will have to make it, we who want an end to suffering, who want to change the laws of history, if we are not to give ourselves away.
Jem seemed to look through her then, as if he were seeing something beyond her, beyond the corridor, beyond the Institute itself. "Whatever you are physically," he said, "male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy--all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside." He smiled them, seeming to have come back to himself, slightly embarrassed. "That's what I believe.
I wonder if he'll ever see the truth in my own heart: that, whatever Dustpelt says, however much Fireheart breaks the warrior code, I love him more that I could imagine loving any other cat. And if Fireheart knew, would he love me, too? - Sandstorm
The trainee knew he should leave, but he was unable to look away. He'd never seen anything snap out so fast or strike so hard as the male's fists. Obviously, the rumours about the instructor were all true. He was a flat-out killer. With a metal clank, a door opened at the other end of the gym, and the sound of a newborn's cries echoed up into the high ceiling. The warrior stopped in midpunch and wheeled around as a lovely female carrying young in a pink blanket came over to him. His face softened, positively melted.
You have the blood of warriors in your veins. The kind of men who protect what is theirs and love without restraint. I want that love and I want you. (Gabrielle) It’s all yours. You’re not getting much out of this deal since all I own is what I can carry in two hands. (Carlos) Great. That means I get to decorate the house the way I want. (Gabrielle)
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