Proximo: Some of you are thinking that you won’t fight. Others, that you can’t fight. They all say that until they’re out there. Listen. Thrust this into another man’s flesh. They will applaud and love you for that. And you, you may begin to love them for that. Ultimately we’re all dead men. Sadly, we cannot choose how, but we can decide how we meet that end, in order that we are remembered as men.

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Proximo: Some of you say you can’t fight, you won’t fight. They all say that. But one day you will pick up a sword and thrust it into another man. And the crowd will cheer you and love you. And you will love them for it. On that day, you will be a gladiator.

Maximus: At my signal, unleash hell.

Maximus: Strength and honor.

Maximus: It’s the frost, it sometimes makes the blade stick.

Quintus: These barbarians would rather drown in blood than yield an inch. If I didn’t hate them so much I would admire them.