Dueling Quotes

“But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”
“And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”
“Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

“Scared?" Malfoy muttered, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You wish." said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

“I find it rude to laugh at a man with a sword.”
― Derek Landy, Mortal Coil

“I don’t duel, boy. I kill as a soldier kills, which is as a butcher kills, as quickly, efficiently, and with as least risk to myself as I can arrange.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, The Curse of Chalion

“In a duel, man to man, sword against sword, it can be a lack of skill that gets you killed. Often as not, though, it'll be a matter of luck, or if it goes on too long, then it'll be the man who tires first that tends to die.
In the end it's about staying power. They should put that on headstones, "Got tired.”
― Mark Lawrence, Prince of Thorns

“To be able to listen -- really, wholly passively, self-effacingly listen -- without presupposing, classifying, improving, controverting, evaluating,
approving or disapproving, without dueling with what is being said, without rehearsing the rebuttal in advance, without free-associating to portions of what is being said so that succeeding portions are not heard at all -- such listening is rare.”
― Abraham Maslow

“that Englishman who came to challenge me three or four months ago, and whom I killed to stop him bothering me”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

“In your rare embrace, sometimes I am lost nowadays. In these years, you have changed. I have changed. Every single day, we’re fighting our feuds silently; inventing devious ways to hurt one another. Our gazes keep to our feet: wavering, pirouetting and crisscrossing, so as to not stumble, even inadvertently, upon each other. Our windows look out at other windows looking in at us. Mynahs no longer come by in our balconies. Branches, not of a mango tree, but of a conglomerate, surround them instead. The silhouettes of concrete buildings sometimes shine in the rain's aftermath, but remain concrete. Today, as the Ganga rises and rages all over the city, people run for their lives, but I let it wash over my soul and flood my tears.’
('Left from Dhakeshwari')”
― Kunal Sen

“Eena!”

Recognizing Ian’s voice, Eena turned to find him approaching her from behind. He was entirely clad in body armor and gauntlets, cradling an open-faced helmet in one arm. Painted on his chest plate was a flaming, gold sword. From his side hung a leather sheath, a golden hilt peeking from the top.

“I’m glad you’re back. You are going to stay and watch us play, aren’t you?” He looked hopeful she’d say yes.

Eena smiled brightly. “I didn’t know you were talented enough to be on a dueling team. Nice sword,” she teased.

Ian blushed a degree. “Thanks. They call us the Savage Warriors!” He rasped their team name in a semi-ferocious voice. “Jerin’s team captain.”

She laughed at the showy designation. “And who’s your challenger today?”

“The Dragon Slayers - Derian’s team.”

Eena’s face fell. “Derian is playing?” She groaned internally, knowing she should’ve guessed as much. This was starting to look like another setup.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Return of a Queen

“Swords. That is no faenorn ; that is slaughter.”

The Grand Seneschal shrugged. “The Master did not protest. And, indeed, what weapon could he have suggested that would suit him any better?”

“Fire,” she said.

“He would not,” said the Seneschal. “You know he would not.”
― Robin McKinley, Chalice

“Until the Civil War there was scarcely a man in public life in New Orleans or Louisiana who had not fought at least one duel; most of them had engaged in several.”
― Herbert Asbury, The French Quarter: An Informal History of the New Orleans Underworld

“I am one that had rather go with Sir Priest than Sir Knight.”
― William Shakespeare , Twelfth Night

“Sir, you have insulted me!" she cried theatrically. "I challenge you to a duel!"

"What weapons do ladies duel with?" Hugh laughed.

"Crochet hooks at dawn!”
― Ken Follett, A Dangerous Fortune

“It is time to end this."

He ducked under her sword, stepped around her with blinding speed until he was at her back. She turned at once. He thrust his sword with great precision to catch the grip just above her hand and flick the sword from her grasp. It was a move he had long ago perfected. Her eyes widened, she stepped back, stumbled, and fell to the ground. He stood over her, aiming his sword at her midsection.

"Have you had enough then?" He smiled smugly down at her.

"No." She rolled quickly, caught his ankle with her foot, and he tumbled to the ground. Before he could recover she scrambled to her knees, grabbed his sword, and held it against his chest. "You're right, it is time to end this."

He looked at the sword and winced. "Do be careful with that. You could inflict a great deal of harm.”
― Victoria Alexander, When We Meet Again

“The shot was so precise that the bullet went out his forehead and shattered a whisky bottle against the wall behind the counter.”
― Justin Bienvenue, A Bloody Bloody Mess In the Wild Wild West: A Western Horror Novel

“A man cannot be too careful in selecting the individual who is intrusted with his cartel. He should run over the names of his friends, and endeavour to obtain the services of a staid, cool, calculating old fellow; if possible, one who has seen some few shots exchanged: but I should advise his never choosing an Irishman on any account, as nine out of ten of those I have had the pleasure of forming an acquaintance with, both abroad and in this country, have such an innate love of fighting, they cannot bring an affair to an amicable adjustment.”
― A Traveller, The Art of Duelling

“At the top of the Palisades in Weehawken, New Jersey is a small park known as the Dueling Grounds. This Revolutionary War site, overlooking New York City to the east, and what had been Half Moon Bay to the north is where Alexander Hamilton, a founding father of the United States, was mortally wounded by a single shot from Aaron Burr’s dueling pistol on the morning of July 11, 1804. He died the following day in Greenwich Village, across the river in New York City. The duel was because Hamilton, the former secretary of the treasury, interfered with Aaron Burr’s bid for the presidency of the United States and again, by successfully opposing his candidacy for governor of New York. Burr’s vindictive retaliation cost Hamilton his life.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater One...."

“In the middle of a battle on Candentis Academy, a silver snake slithered toward a crumpled form. No one saw its winding progress through the grass. Secrecy was the reason Princewell transformed: to travel unnoticed to his target. However, given the serpent’s almost glowing silver, anyone who did see him would probably realize it wasn’t just a snake but a man who had morphed. Not that it would have mattered anyway. Princewell was one of the few persons in the Triskai who could wield magic while in his animal form. Any unfortunate person who challenged him would make that fatal discovery when it was too late.
But Princewell didn’t like to kill, not in the usual sense anyway. Killing blows, spells, and curses—he found all these methods too bland, unimaginative, and sacrilegious for his own taste. Death should be the climax of a long and complex symphony, and even then, it should not be the end. He had the ability to steal whatever afterlife his target was entitled to. He liked to entice human vices, pitting men one against the other. He enjoyed watching them destroying themselves within his binds of silver magic—his web of trickery. So confident was he in his abilities, that he would soon attempt to swindle an old god in his quest to achieve a status never before seen in history.”
― Asher Sharol, Binds of Silver Magic

“The last I saw, he was breathing, but we can always hope that the duke shoots him again,” said the doctor cheerfully.”
― Byrd Nash, Delicious Death