What binds a man to his land? What power within allows him to give his life to preserve his land and the lives of the families who work it? It can only be love.
God created everything that surrounds me, the fields, rivers, the forests. The land is my church.
We are one, you and I. From the moment I took your hand on the steps of the great hall of Eoferwic, we were bound as one. You may dislike me, hate me if you wish, despise me at times. But love is immortal. It goes on.[to Brida]
There’s no justice here. Only the church.
Wessex allows its warriors to kill each other and spends too much time on its knees.
I will not stand by and have everything that’s mine taken from me.
Call me Uhtred. Or, from time to time, you may wish to call me Arseling.
The truth of a man lies not in the land of his birth, but in his heart.
The priest doesn’t lie. Despite him being a priest.
The future is fate, it won’t change.
One path looks like another.
Nothing finishes an evening in an alehouse so well as a fight.
