Quotes About Control

The point of all of this is control. First you must have control of yourself. Then you can gain control of your surroundings. Then you gain control of whoever stands against you.

My Alar is like the ocean in a storm.

He beat you." And as I spoke the words I felt a terrible anger come together inside me. It wasn't hot and furious, as some of my flashes of temper tend to be. This was different, slow and cold.

For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. He spoke to the wind and it cradled and caressed him.

Which do you think is the greater type of power?" I only had to think for a second. "The inherent, your grace." "Interesting. Why do you say that?" "Because a power you possess yourself cannot be taken away, your grace.

He did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him.

I called the lightning and it came.

I see the problem," I said slowly. "I don't seem to have any behavioral filters.

Damn little gadflies think they can buy the sun out the sky, don't they?" "This particular one could probably afford it," I said grimly. "And the moon too, if he wanted the matched set to use as bookends.

Il y a peu de choses aussi répugnantes qu'une obéissance aveugle.

I did my best not to think about it. Only a fool worries over what he can't control.

Nobles' sons are one of nature's great destructive forces, like floods or tornadoes. When you're struck with one of these catastrophes, the only thing an average man can do is grit his teeth and try to minimise the damage.

So Taborlin fell, but he did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. He

Es mejor conocer los propios límites que calcular mal las propias habilidades y perder el control.

And a ring of red amber that gives me power over demons. And an endless supply of cake.

She was indeed a girl of exquisite beauty. She was one of those languid women made of dark honey, smooth and sweet and terribly sticky, who take control of a room with a syrupy gesture, a toss of the hair, a single slow whiplash of the eyes-and all the while remain as still as the center of a hurricane, apparently unaware of the force of gravity by which they irresistibly attract to themselves the yearnings and the souls of both men and women.

She was one of those languid women, made of dark honey, smooth and sweet, and terribly sticky, who take control of a room with a syrupy gesture, a toss of the hair, a single slow whiplash of the eyes — and all the while remain as still as the centre of a hurricane, apparently unaware of the force of gravity by which they irresistibly attract themselves the yearnings and the souls of both men and women.

He had used only a drop of his perfume for his performance in Grasse. There was enough left to enslave the whole world. If he wanted, he could be feted in Paris, not by tens of thousands, but by hundreds of thousands of people; or could walk out to Versailles and have the King kiss his feet; write the Pope a perfumed letter and reveal himself as the new Messiah; be anointed in Notre-Dame as Supreme Emperor before kings, or even as God come to earth.

con un gesto apacible, un movimiento de la cabellera, un solo y lento destello de la mirada dominaba el espacio y permanecen tranquilas como en el centro de un ciclón, al parecer ignorantes de la propia fuerza de atracción, que arrastra hacia ellas de modo irresistible los anhelos y las almas tanto de hombre como mujeres.

He who ruled scent ruled the hearts of men.

He had to hold his body very still, very still, like some vessel about to slosh over from too much motion. Gradually he managed to get control of his breathing. His excited heart beat more steadily; the pounding of the waves inside him subsided slowly. And suddenly solitude fell across his heart like a dusky reflection. He closed his eyes. The dark doors within him opened, and he entered. The next performance in the theatre of his soul was beginning.

It takes more than a casual curtsy or head-tip toward God's sovereignty to let go; it will take a face on the floor, heart-cry of relinquishment before most of us tend to hand over our scepter.

Got to lose control before you take control.

The Lord gives us wings He gives us a stomach we can fly or vomit