The Pagan Lord Quotes

“Five things make a man happy,” I told him, “a good ship, a good sword, a good hound, a good horse, and a woman.” “Not a good woman?” Finan asked, amused. “They’re all good,” I said, “except when they’re not, and then they’re better than good.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“When those blades cut, they cause tears that feed the well of Urdr that lies beside the world tree, and the well gives the water that keeps Yggdrasil alive, and if Yggdrasil dies then the world dies, and so the well must be kept filled and for that there must be tears.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“The art of war,” I told him, “is to make the enemy do your bidding.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“The priests are like Offa,” I said. “They want us to be their dogs, well schooled, grateful and obedient, and why? So they can get rich. They tell you pride is a sin? You’re a man! It’s like telling you breathing is a sin, and once they’ve made you feel guilty for daring to breathe, they’ll give you absolution in return for a handful of silver.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“A bastard son must fight his own way in the world. Osferth knew that.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“He was watching my eyes. A man who uses a sword with lethal skill always matches his opponent's eyes.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“A battle in the shield wall. It's smelling your enemy's breath while he tries to disembowel you with an axe, it's blood and shit and screams and pain and terror. It's trampling in your friends' guts as enemies butcher them. It's men clenching their teeth so hard they shatter them. Have you ever been in a battle?”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Seven kings will die, she had said, seven kings and the women you love. And Alfred's son will not rule and Wessex will die and the Saxon will kill what he loves and the Danes will gain everything, and all will change and all will be the same.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“I was doing everything wrong. I was confused. Confusion is inevitable in battle, but indecision is unforgivable, and I had hesitated to make any decision and then made all the wrong ones.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Because there could not be peace, not while two tribes shared one land. One tribe must win. Even the nailed god cannot change that truth. And I was a warrior, and in a world at war the warrior must be cruel.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“It was madness. And, as Finan had said, sometimes madness works.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Instinct is everything.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“They laughed, but I was melancholy. The remnants of Rome always make me sad, simply because they are proof that we slide inexorably towards the darkness. Once there was light falling on marbled magnificence, and now we trudge through mud. Wyrd bið ful āræd. We”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“I recalled that a man named Judas had betrayed the nailed god. That never made any sense to me. The god had to be nailed to a cross if he was to become their savior, and then the Christians blame the man who made that death possible. I thought they should worship him as a saint, but instead they revile him as a betrayer.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“The god had to be nailed to a cross if he was to become their saviour, and then the Christians blame the man who made that death possible. I thought they should worship him as a saint, but instead they revile him as a betrayer.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“I'm getting old," I said again, and that was true. I had lived more than fifty years and most men were lucky to see forty. Yet all old age was bringing was the death of dreams.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“You know why farts smell?” “I don’t.” “So the deaf can enjoy them too.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“We don't build,' I said to my son, 'we just destroy.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Serpent-Breath was in my hand and anger in my soul.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“You’re in love,’ I said, and saw I had embarrassed him, but pressed on anyway, ‘and being in love changes everything. A man will fight through the fires of Ragnarok because he’s in love; he’ll forget all the world and do insane things just for the woman he loves.’ ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You do? You’ve never had the madness before.’ ‘I’ve watched you,’ he said, ‘and you’re not doing this for Wessex or Mercia, you’re doing this for my sister.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“The night is the domain of the dead, and the living fear it...”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“The art of war is to make the enemy do our bidding.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Confusion is inevitable in battle, but indecision is unforgivable.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“What is an oath? A promise to serve a lord, but to Christians there is always a higher allegiance.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“So Urðr, Verðandi and Skuld would decide our fate. They are not kindly women, indeed they are monstrous and malevolent hags, and Skuld’s shears are sharp. When those blades cut, they cause tears that feed the well of Urðr that lies beside the world tree, and the well gives the water that keeps Yggdrasil alive, and if Yggdrasil dies, then the world dies, and so the well must be kept filled, and for that there must be tears. We cry so that the world can live.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Piglet,” Bishop Wulfheard said in a scornful tone. I stared at him, then held up a hand to check Merewalh, who was about to leave the hall. “Maybe we don’t need a piglet,” I said slowly, as if an idea was just coming to me. “Why waste a baby pig when there’s a bishop available?” Wulfheard fled.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“The other held a hand toward the wretched boy in the dung-heap. “Father Uhtred,” he said. “His name is not Uhtred,” I snarled, “and if he dares call himself Uhtred,” I looked at him as I spoke, “then I will find him and I will cut his belly to the bone and I will feed his lily-livered guts to my swine. He is not my son. He’s not worthy to be my son.” The man who was not worthy to be my son clambered wetly from the dung-heap, dripping filth. He looked up at me. “Then what am I called?” he asked. “Judas,” I said mockingly.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“It had happened to me once, long ago. I had been named Osbert by my father, who was called Uhtred, but when my elder brother, also Uhtred, was slaughtered by the Danes my father had renamed me. It is always thus in our family. The eldest son carries on the name. My stepmother, a foolish woman, even had me baptized a second time because, she said, the angels who guard the gates of heaven would not know me by my new name, and so I was dipped in the water barrel, but Christianity washed off me, thank Christ, and I discovered the old gods and have worshiped them ever since.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“And that was what the Christians had been doing in their church, consecrating their wizards by making boys into black-clothed priests who would spread their filth further, and my son, my eldest son, was now a damned Christian priest and I hit him again.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord

“Have you ever fought in a battle? I know you burned down my barns, but that isn’t a battle, you stinking piece of rat-gristle. A battle is the shield wall. It’s smelling your enemy’s breath while he tries to disembowel you with an ax, it’s blood and shit and screams and pain and terror. It’s trampling in your friends’ guts as enemies butcher them. It’s men clenching their teeth so hard they shatter them. Have you ever been in a battle?”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Pagan Lord