This fight coming is not a battle of weapons, but a battle of wills.
The universe forgives those who give until their hearts are aching and their spirits weak, and finds a way to renew all strength and cure all ills, in this world or the next, if a soul can just have faith.
Be polite to all, friendly to none. Be professional. Be ready to kill everyone and everything.
The Riddler says you make the world better one battle at a time.
Tempus never left a problem for another to solve. Tempus never let the pain or difficulty of an undertaking persuade him not to pursue a resolution his heart thought was right. Tempus never gave up.
There must be love, and understanding, to betray. Most men haven't the wit or the honor for betrayal: not to know it when they see it; not the stomach to apprehend it as they do it. Most men, blind and dumb in their self-centeredness, don't betray: they merely disappoint.
I see ranks ready for battle, stretching out. Five, six horses across, ranks in formation. Endlessly.
Let fools believe what fools believe.
Every man's in his own hands, with a little help from his brothers.
Wanting neither too much to live, nor too much to die.
Time to unite the Sacred Bands, Thebans and his people: one unit, one heart, one swing through life.
Here Stormbringer spies the Stepsons, the Theban fighters, and the 3rd Commando, attending to their own. In the face of such unflinching determination and unswerving devotion, the hurricane pauses and calms. Its ravings turn to mutters.
Why is it we are always the targets of the angry Fates? Twice as many men of ours met harm as did theirs, since we've come here.
Your honor blinds you, Tempus, to what's right and wrong these days.
The heavens listen to what is said on these cobbles. Laws of man and nature come together here. Here you must be firm. Here you must be true.
Ask yourselves if the gods are angry, you who have seen Harmony come among us, walk among us, touch us, look kindly upon us. We are the Sacred Band of Thebes. We fight in the forefront, therefore we bleed first. We live, therefore we die.
Valor was in Nikodemos, unquestionable, and commitment like trees to stand or night to fall.
You're talent, and we're the talent scouts.
Niko, you're halfway to where you need to go. It's the most dangerous time. And all the gods and forces have a stake in you, Hero. Or do you want to be just a memory, a cult somewhere, with people sacrificing horses to your name?
Loyalty must be forged - to him, to his: stronger than iron, from experience, from risk - it can't be bought, or taught, or promised before the fact. Allegiance must be earned so it will hold, win or lose.
No ethos, pursued without thought or mercy, is ethical.
One man, one horse, one holocaust on demand.
Choose life over death, Niko, when a choice can be made that puts no soul in jeopardy.
Deception is a tactic: use it. Do whatever it takes to win.
To the death with honor, shoulder to shoulder, and no one gets closer to a Stepson than his partner.
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