Evil Weapon/Quotes
For seventeen long centuries have I remained in this blade, confined within these metal walls. During all my imprisonment you are the first I have seen who is worthy to bear me into battle. Come, take my hilt, and I will serve you in the manner of my kind, drawing the blood of your enemies, protecting you in the midst of the fight, bringing you safe home again. Now draw me from the scabbard and test the fitness of my balance. See how easily I swing, how my keen edge cleaves the air. A good choice, am I not?
Willingly you picked me up. Your first mistake. Willingly you drew me. Your second mistake. I do not allow my servants to make three mistakes, foolish mortal!—Antinichus, Daemon of the Bloody Blade, Warhammer 40,000
Frostmourne hungers.
—Arthas Menethil, the Lich King, Warcraft III
I have this feeling that my luck is none too good
This sword here at my side don't act the way it should
Keeps calling me its master, but I feel like its slave
Hauling me faster and faster to an early, early grave
And it howls! It howls like hell!
Now arms, however beautiful, are instruments of evil omen, hateful, it may be said, to all creatures. Therefore they who have the Tao do not like to employ them.
He thought he could gain power through wearing me. Of course, it is the other way around.
—The Archchancellor's Hat, Sourcery
Viewing it on the monitor, Jack had been able to appreciate its comical appearance as well as its more deadly aspects. Here, standing in its presence, he could see nothing amusing about it at all. The device reeked of destruction and anger, of hatred and pride and a lust for power.
All tools and weapons, Uncle Virgil had once said, could be used for both good and bad. They could be a help in Jack's work, or throw a snarl-up in his path.
But the Death was different. There was no useful task to which it could be put, no role of defense or creation that its technology could provide. All it could do was kill, without discrimination or restraint or mercy.
It was pure evil.
It was a trifle cruder than Dennie's weapon, but skillfully made, and graven with runes and symbols that had made her blink a little the first time she'd seen it bare and close enough to read them.
And made me wonder where he dug those up. They weren't in any book I lent to DunCarson! Bane and blight and ruin were worked into that metal with every hammer stroke. I'd as soon go into battle with a rattlesnake in my naked hand!
Yes, it's a terrible weapon, but it will betray him in the end; doesn't he realize that?