“There stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all over with blood.”

—  John Bunyan , The Pilgrim's Progress

Part II, Ch. XI : Mr. Valiant-For-Truth <!-- Sect. 4 -->
The Pilgrim's Progress (1678), Part II
Context: There stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all over with blood. Then said Mr. Great-Heart, Who art thou? The man made answer, saying, I am one whose name is Valiant-for-truth. I am a pilgrim, and am going to the Celestial City.

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "There stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all over with blood." by John Bunyan?
John Bunyan photo
John Bunyan 50
English Christian writer and preacher 1628–1688

Related quotes

James A. Michener photo

“A Pole is a man born with a sword in his right hand, a brick in his left. When the battle is over, he starts to rebuild.”

James A. Michener book Poland

Poland (1983)

Bram Stoker photo

“No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.”

Bram Stoker book Dracula

Source: Dracula

Nikos Kazantzakis photo

“The worm stood straight on God's blood-splattered threshold then
and beat his drum”

Nikos Kazantzakis (1883–1957) Greek writer

Odysseus' song, Book III, line 424
The Odyssey : A Modern Sequel (1938)
Context: The worm stood straight on God's blood-splattered threshold then
and beat his drum, beat it again, and raised his throat:
'You've matched all well on earth, wine, women, bread, and song,
but why, you Murderer, must you slay our children? Why?'
God foamed with rage and raised his sword to pierce that throat,
but his old copper sword, my lads, stuck at the bone.
Then from his belt the worm drew his black-hilted sword,
rushed up and slew that old decrepit god in heaven!
And now, my gallant lads — I don't know when or how —
that worm's god-slaying sword has fallen into my hands;
I swear that from its topmost iron tip the blood still drips!

Seneca the Younger photo

“Arms observe no bounds; nor can the wrath of the sword, once drawn, be easily checked or stayed; war delights in blood.”
arma non servant modum; nec temperari facile nec reprimi potest stricti ensis ira; bella delectat cruor.

Seneca the Younger Hercules Furens

Hercules Furens (The Madness of Hercules), lines 403-405; (Lycus).
Tragedies

Seneca the Younger photo

“There stood Mucius, despising the enemy and despising the fire, and watched his hand as it dripped blood over the fire on his enemy’s altar, until Porsenna, envying the fame of the hero whose punishment he was advocating, ordered the fire to be removed against the will of the victim.”

Seneca the Younger book Epistulae morales ad Lucilium

Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium (Moral Letters to Lucilius), Letter LXVI: On Various Aspects of Virtue

Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo

“The dying chief sprang to his knee,
And the staunch'd wounds well'd fearfully;
But his gash'd arm, what is it now?
Livid his lip, and black his brow,
While over him the slayer stood,
As if he almost scorn'd the blood
That cost so little to be won,—
He strikes,—the work of death is done!”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

The Combat. By Etty
The Troubadour (1825)

Thucydides photo

“They stood where they stood by the power of the sword.”

Thucydides History of the Peloponnesian War

Book IV, 4.98-[7]
History of the Peloponnesian War, Book IV

François Fénelon photo

“All wars are civil ones; for it is still man spilling his own blood, tearing out his own bowels.”

François Fénelon (1651–1715) Catholic bishop

Toutes les guerres sont civiles; car c'est toujours l'homme contre l'homme qui répand son propre sang, qui déchire ses propres entrailles.
Dialogues des morts, ch. 17, cited from De l'éducation des filles, Dialogues des morts et opuscules divers (Paris: Firmin Didot, 1857) p. 149; translation from Mr. Elphingston (trans.) Dialogues of the Dead, Together with Some Fable Composed for the Education of a Prince (Glasgow: Robert and Andrew Foulis, 1754) vol. 1, p. 87. (1700).

Mickey Spillane photo

“The little guy's face was a bloody mess. Between the puffballs of blue-black flesh that used to be eyelids, the dull gleam of shock-deadened pupils watched Dilwick uncomprehendingly. His lips were swollen things of lacerated skin, with slow trickles of blood making crooked paths from the corners of his mouth through the stubble of a beard to his chin, dripping onto a stained shirt.
Dilwick stood just outside the glare of the lamp, dangling like the Sword of Damocles over the guy's head. He was sweating too. His shirt clung to the meaty expanse of his huge neck. He pushed his beefy hand further into the leather glove and swung. The solid smack of his open hand on the little guy's jaw was nasty. His chair went over backward and his head cracked against the concrete floor of the room like a ripe melon. Dilwick put his hands on his hips and glared down at the caricature that once was human.”

Mickey Spillane book The Twisted Thing

The Twisted Thing (1966)

Related topics