Bernard Cornwell Quotes
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She had been restless and forceful, a killer of the border hills, yet she had a childlike faith in love. She had given herself to him and never doubted the wisdom of the gift as he had sometimes doubted it. She had kept the faith, and she was dead.
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Agents will read unpublished work because they might make money, and that's their job. It isn't mine.
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'They're not going, sir. Not going South.' 'And who made that decision, Sergeant?' 'We all did, sir.' 'Since when, Sergeant, has this army been a... a democracy?' 'A what, sir?' 'Since when did Sergeants outrank Lieutenants?'
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He was a Major now, the ranks long in his past, yet he still carried the rifle. He had always carried a long-arm into battle; a musket when he was a private, a rifle now he was an officer. He saw no reason not to carry a gun. A soldier's job was to kill. A rifle killed.
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He had been a tough, cheerful youngster, the sort who collected birds' eggs, scrapped with other boys and climbed the church tower on a dare, and now he was a tough cheerful young man who thought that being an officer in Lawford's regiment was just about the finest thing life could afford. He liked soldiering and he liked soldiers.
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'I think the Holy Grail is a dream that men have, a dream that the world can be made perfect. And if it existed, then we'd all know the dream can't come true.'
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'Why do they call them vaulters?' 'Vaulters?' 'Voltigeur, Sharpe. French for vaulter.' 'God knows, sir.' 'Because the jump like fleas, sir, when you shoot at them. But don't worry yourself about that one, sir. He's a good voltigeur, that one. He's dead.'
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'My God, but I command King Ferdinand's guard and-' 'And King Ferdinand, sir, is a prisoner! Which does not speak, sir, for the efficacy of his guard.'
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'What we should have done, lads, is gone north.'
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'There are men in Spain who need me, who trust me. They're not special men, they wouldn't look very well in Carlton House, but they are fighting for all of you. That's why I'm here.'
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You're a light company, and that means you can go where other Soldier's can't. It makes you an elite. You know what that means? It means you're the best men in the bloody army, and right now the army needs its best men. It needs you.
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Sharpe wanted to be liked by the men under his command. He was tempted to believe that if he was friendly and approachable, reasonable and kind, then his men would follow him more willingly. But kindness was not the wellspring of loyalty and he knew the temptation had to be resisted.
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'You can keep your sword, for you fought proper. Like a proper soldier. Take your blade to paradise, and tell them you were killed by another proper soldier.'
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'It is not wise, I think, to mix private revenge with war.' 'Of course it's not wise, but it's bloody enjoyable. Enjoying yourself, Sergeant?' 'Never been happier, sir.'
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'You had no choice, sir.' 'There's always a choice.'
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The Tippoo still led the fight. ... Those gaudy stones made him a target for every redcoat and sepoy, yet he insisted on staying in the very front rank where he could pour his rifle fire at the stalled attackers, and his charms worked, for though the bullets flicked close none hit him. He was the Tiger of Mysore, he could not die, only kill.
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Then you start another book and suddenly the galley proofs of the last one come in and you have to wrench your attention away from what you're writing and try to remember what you were thinking when you wrote the previous one.
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They thought war was a game and every defeat only made them more eager to play.
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'Nondum amabam, et amare amabam. I did not love, but yearned to love.' 'A very elaborate way of saying you're lonely.'
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It's fun. I sit down every day and tell stories. Some folk would kill to get that chance.
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Writing is a solitary occupation.
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...all battles had to be fought one step at a time. No point in worrying about the future if there was to be no future, so he and and Harper worked patiently away.
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Remember, Mr Sharpe, an officer's eyes are more valuable than his sword!
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Sharpe had no thought of deserting now, for now he was about to fight. If there was any one good reason to join the army, it was to fight. Not to hurry up and do nothing, but to fight the King's enemies, and this enemy had been shocked by the awful violence of the close-range volley and now they stared in horror as the redcoats screamed and ran toward them.