Fencing Quotes

“Anger is stupid, and stupidity will kill you more surely than your opponent's blade.”
― Patricia Briggs, Dragon Bones

“Those prancing little pants-wetters come here to learn the colorful and gentlemanly art of fencing, with its many sporting limitations and its proscriptions against dishonorable engagements. You on the other hand, you are going to learn how to kill men with a sword.”
― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora

“As a pirate, she once undressed a fencing instructor using only her sword!”
― Kathy Reichs, Seizure

“Creativity is the essence of fencing.”
― Charles Allen

“May my hands fall from my wrists before I kill an artist like yourself," said the man in black. "I would as soon destroy da Vinci. However"—and here he clubbed Inigo's head with the butt of his sword—"since I can't have you following me either, please understand that I hold you in the highest respect.”
― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

“The blades sang like the strokes of a hammer on a blacksmith's anvil echoing in the empty churchyard.”
― Stanley Goldyn, The Cavalier Club

“Nothing in life is fair except a witnessed duel.”
― Lynda Williams

“Speed will follow when the mechanism of the movements is more assured.”
― Rafael Sabatini, Scaramouche

“Pamela pulled off her cloak and Alexei gasped.
"You have on breeches!" He stared in disbelief. "Breeches!"

"I've never worn them before, and they are extremely comfortable. I quite like them." She smoothed the fabric over her hip. "Besides, you don't expect me to duel in a dress, do you?"

"I do not expect you to duel at all!"

Pamela ignored him. "That would be most unfair, dueling in a dress, unless, of course, you would be willing to wear a dress as well?"

"Don't be absurd." He snorted in disdain. "I have no intention of ever wearing women's clothing again."

"Again?" She raised a brow.
"It was an unavoidable disguise," he muttered.”
― Victoria Alexander, When We Meet Again

“The Mouser made a very small parry in carte so that the thrust of the bravo from the east went past his left side by only a hair's breath. He instantly riposted. His adversary, desperately springing back, parried in turn in carte. Hardly slowing, the tip of the Mouser's long, slim sword dropped under that parry with the delicacy of a princess curtsying and then leaped forward and a little upward, the Mouser making an impossibly long-looking lunge for one so small, and went between two scales of the bravo's armored jerkin and between his ribs and through his heart and out his back as if all were angelfood cake.”
― Fritz Leiber, Swords and Deviltry

“Then, after picking up his papers, Pierre began: “A beautiful woman can be the downfall of a gentleman . . . but the uplift of a beggar!”
― Ted Anthony Roberts, Captain Skull: From the Memoirs of Sir Charles of Riley

“I’ve only an hour,” Colin said as he attached the safety tip to his foil. “I have an appointment this afternoon.”
“No matter,” Benedict replied, lunging forward a few times to loosen up the muscles in his leg. He hadn’t fenced in some time; the sword felt good in his hand. He drew back and touched the tip to the floor, letting the blade bend slightly. “It won’t take more than an hour to best you.”
Colin rolled his eyes before he drew down his mask.
Benedict walked to the center of the room. “Are you ready?”
“Not quite,” Colin replied, following him.
Benedict lunged again.
“I said I wasn’t ready!” Colin hollered as he jumped out of the way.
“You’re too slow,” Benedict snapped.
Colin cursed under his breath, then added a louder, “Bloody hell,” for good measure. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” Benedict nearly snarled. “Why would you say so?”
Colin took a step backward until they were a suitable distance apart to start the match. “Oh, I don’t know,” he intoned, sarcasm evident. “I suppose it could be because you nearly took my head off.”
“I’ve a tip on my blade.”
“And you were slashing like you were using a sabre,” Colin shot back.
Benedict gave a hard smile. “It’s more fun that way.”
“Not for my neck.” Colin passed his sword from hand to hand as he flexed and stretched his fingers. He paused and frowned. “You sure you have a foil there?”
Benedict scowled. “For the love of God, Colin, I would never use a real weapon.”
“Just making sure,” Colin muttered, touching his neck lightly. “Are you ready?”
Benedict nodded and bent his knees.
“Regular rules,” Colin said, assuming a fencer’s crouch. “No slashing.”
Benedict gave him a curt nod.
“En garde!”
Both men raised their right arms, twisting their wrists until their palms were up, foils gripped in their fingers.
“Is that new?” Colin suddenly asked, eyeing the handle of Benedict’s foil with interest.
Benedict cursed at the loss of his concentration. “Yes, it’s new,” he bit off. “I prefer an Italian grip.”
Colin stepped back, completely losing his fencing posture as he looked at his own foil, with a less elaborate French grip. “Might I borrow it some time? I wouldn’t mind seeing if—”
“Yes!” Benedict snapped, barely resisting the urge to advance and lunge that very second. “Will you get back en garde?”
Colin gave him a lopsided smile, and Benedict just knew that he had asked about his grip simply to annoy him. “As you wish,” Colin murmured, assuming position again.”
― Julia Quinn, An Offer From a Gentleman

“He took his own saber by the blade and handed it to Alek, pommel first, as if offering it to a victor.”
― Scott Westerfeld, Leviathan

“The days became for Christina endless preparation. Ceaseless winds tore through her massing battle ranks, the grey cold sun above marking the timeless date. With skies of blue and cloud overhead, driving, uncompromising time stood still, lingering, as if giving Christina precious eons to perfect her shaving straight razor cuts of mind and sword. She worked alone now, forging the essence of herself in the policies and ways of hammer and anvil, pounding away with the classic, living Japanese blade. Her deft hands spun dervishly, wroughting out the iron of her will, fashioning a blade-mind remade unto her. --Brickley, The Lady and the Samurai”
― douglas laurent

“You really are sort of a basic person, aren’t you, except for that blue stratospheric veneer of crust you wrap yourself around. I was going to ask you, with your usual never-ending broadside complaints of lack and wearisome bushwa ‘nonsensical’ humdrum excuses, just exactly what kind of person are you? You must have had it easy growing up. Now, as per your habit, tonight when you hit the hay, percle on this: There are 7even basic types of people—:

1. People who make things happen.
2. People who talk about making things happen.
3. People who start to make things happen but never finish.
4. People who watch things happen.
5. People who wonder what just happened.
6. People who don’t have the faintest idea that anything happened.
7. People who need a stout “clue-by-four” of hickory smacked up alongside their head to make them happen.
— As for an eighth—
—Which one are you? Puzȥle it out. . . .

-- Thomas Kannon, Instructor to Brickley. The Lady and the Samurai”
― Douglas M. Laurent

“Now!" cried all the boys, but with a magnificent gesture Peter invited his opponent to pick up his sword. Hook did so instantly, but with a tragic feeling that Peter was showing good form.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

“Whenever you are conducting reconnaissance, you can safely assume that your opponent is conducting their own reconnaissance against you.

If your opponent is monitoring and recording what you do in every situation, then you should make it your priority to feed them as much false information about your fencing as possible.”
― John Routledge, Foil Fencing: Skills, Strategies and Training Methods

“Простой способ экзаменации учителей в искусстве фехтования с оружием”
― Луис Пачеко Де Нарваэс

“Undoubtedly, you are overwrought from re-wroughting hand-wrought iron out right. But I think in time you will iron things out for yourself. Stay holstered and strapped to your side. It is said, ‘when genius matures it goes into hixibn’–“hiding.” You will know of this wisdom one day.
--Thomas Kannon Sword Master, The Lady and the Samurai”
― Douglas M. Laurent

“The workhouse is in Clerkenwell. The orphan asylum is a bit farther out, at Bishopsgate."
"Those places aren't safe for you to go unescorted."
"I'm quite familiar with London, sir. I don't take chances with my safety, and I carry a walking stick for self-defense."
"What good is a walking stick?" Rhys asked absently.
"In my hands," Dr. Gibson assured him, "it's a dangerous weapon."
"Is it weighted?"
"No, I can deliver three times as many blows with a lighter cane than with a heavier stick. At my fencing-master's suggestion, I've carved notches at strategic points along the shaft to improve grip strength. He has taught me some effective techniques to fell an opponent with a cane."
"You fence?" Helen asked, her head still down.
"I do, my lady. Fencing is an excellent sport for ladies- it develops strength, posture, and proper breathing.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Marrying Winterborne

“Because in business, it's best to be en garde.”
― Norman A. Katz, Attack, Parry, Riposte: A Fencer's Guide to Better Business Execution

“If you can build up a keen sense of distance, you can begin to develop your ability to control the space between yourself and your opponent. By being in control of the distance, you take control of the match.

Your opponent continually chases after you. They feel perpetually one step behind, yet they are still compelled to try and keep up. They never seem to find themselves at quite the right distance to initiate a successful attack. Becoming impatient, they find themselves launching desperate attacks at inopportune moments.”
― John Routledge, Foil Fencing: Skills, Strategies and Training Methods