Lancelot Quotes

Quotes tagged as "lancelot" (showing 1-17 of 17)
Richelle Mead
“Sydney, I'm so happy to see you again. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know. And you must be Neil."

"Your majesty." Neil swept her a bow so low that his forehead touched the ground. Above him, Adrian rolled his eyes.

"Easy there, Lancelot," Adrian said. "I don't think bowing is required when she's in jeans and bunny slippers.”
Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart

T.H. White
“They had a year of joy, twelve months of the strange heaven which the salmon know on beds of river shingle, under the gin-clear water. For twenty-four years they were guilty, but this first year was the only one which seemed like happiness. Looking back on it, when they were old, they did not remember that in this year it had ever rained or frozen. The four seasons were coloured like the edge of a rose petal for them.”
T.H. White, The Once and Future King

Marion Zimmer Bradley
“Lancelot: Morgaine, Morgaine - kinswoman, I have never seen you weep.

Morgaine: Are you like so many men, afraid of a woman's tears? (...)

Lancelot: No (...) it makes them seem so much more real, so much more vulnerable - women who never weep frighten me, because I know they are stronger than I, and I am always a little afraid of what they will do.”
Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Mists of Avalon

T.H. White
“It was well for him, with his chivalry and mysticism, to make the grand renunciation. But it takes two to make love, or to make a quarrel. She was not an insensate piece of property to be taken up or laid down at his convenience. You could not give up a human heart as you could give up drinking. The drink was yours, and you could give it up: but your lover's soul was not you own: it was not at your disposal; you had a duty towards it.”
T.H. White, The Once and Future King

T.H. White
“Lancelot and Guenever were sitting at the solar window. An observer of the present day, who knew the Arthurian legend only from Tennyson and people of that sort, would have been startled to see that the famous lovers were past their prime. We, who have learned to base our interpretation of love on the conventional boy-and-girl romance of Romeo and Juliet, would be amazed if we could step back into the Middle Ages - when the poet of chivalry could write about Man that he had 'en ciel un dieu, par terre une deesse'. Lovers were not recruited then among the juveniles and adolescents: they were seasoned people, who knew what they were about. In those days people loved each other for their lives, without the conveniences of the divorce court and the psychiatrist. They had a God in heaven and a goddess on earth - and, since people who devote themselves to godesses must exercise some caution about the ones to whom they are devoted, they neither chose them by the passing standards of the flesh alone, nor abandoned it lightly when the bruckle thing began to fail.”
T.H. White, The Candle in the Wind

Chrétien de Troyes
“...the most delightful and choicest pleasure is that which is hinted at, but never told.”
Chrétien de Troyes, Lancelot: The Knight of the Cart

T.H. White
“Guenever never cared for God. She was a good theologian, but that was all. The truth was that she was old and wise: she knew that Lancelot did care for God most passionately, that it was essential he should turn in that direction. So, for his sake, to make it easier for him, the great queen now renounced what she had fought for all her life, now set the example, and stood to her choice. She had stepped out of the picture.

Lancelot guessed a good deal of this, and, when she refused to see him, he climbed the convent wall with Gallic, ageing gallantry. He waylaid her to expostulate, but she was adamant and brave. Something about Mordred seems to have broken her lust for life. They parted, never to meet on earth.”
T.H. White, The Book of Merlyn

L.M. Montgomery
“We have The Idylls of the King in English class this term. I like some things in them, but I detest Tennyson's Arthur. If I had been Guinevere I'd have boxed his ears - but I wouldn't have been unfaithful to him for Lancelot, who was just as odious in a different way. As for Geraint, if I had been Enid I'd have bitten him. These 'patient Griseldas' deserve all they get.”
L.M. Montgomery, Emily Climbs

“She would but be repaid by my taking her to wife, and that I could not grant her, for love cometh of the heart and mot by constraint.”
Rupert S. Holland, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table

Peter Ackroyd
“Elaine turned to her father in her distress. ‘Father will you give me permission to ride after Sir Lancelot? I must reach him. Otherwise I will go out of my mind with grief.’
‘Go, good daughter. Rescue him, if you can.’
So she made herself ready for the journey, weeping all the time. Gawain himself rode back to the court of the king in London”
–The Fair Maid of Astolat”
Peter Ackroyd, The Death of King Arthur

“Truth cannot be changed. When all the flowers of the world are dead, there will still be a true thing that is a flower.”
Clara Winter, Tintagel

Chrétien de Troyes
“I don't give a fistful of ashes!”
Chrétien de Troyes, Lancelot: The Knight of the Cart

Lisa Ann Sandell
“There is a look in his eye,
a heavy look that
makes him seem older,
as though in one night
he has lived one hundred lifetimes.
And it makes him appear
even more handsome.”
Lisa Ann Sandell, Song of the Sparrow

Mary Anne Yarde
“It is dangerous to become attached to a du Lac. He will break your heart, and you will not recover.”
Mary Yarde, The Du Lac Chronicles: Book 1

“Lancelot and Guinevere – they looked like two flowers, bright enough to turn to each other for sunlight.”
Clara Winter, Tintagel

Anita Clenney
“You were dreaming?” A hell of a dream from the looks of it. He released her arms.
The moonlight flickered in her eyes, and even in the dark he saw her flush. “I know,” she said, staring at him.
There was a breathy tone to her voice that made him think things he shouldn’t. God, she smelled good. What was it about her skin? He didn’t try to move and she didn’t either. “What was it about?”
It was a struggle to keep from pressing closer to her. ‘What were we doing?”
“I could show you.”
His throat was as tight as his groin. “Show me.”
Anita Clenney, Fountain Of Secrets

Dante Alighieri
“No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when misery is at hand. That kens
Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly 120
If thou art bent to know the primal root,
From whence our love gat being, I will do
As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day,
For our delight we read of Lancelot, 4
How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no 125
Suspicion near us. Oft-times by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point
Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,
The wished smile so raptorously kiss’d 130
By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er
From me shall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both
Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day
We read no more.”
Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy