Favorite A Knight's Tale Quotes
William: I'll ride in his place.
Roland: What's your name, William? I'm asking you William Thatcher, to answer me with your name? It's not Sir William. It's not count, or duke or earl William. It's certainly not King William.
William: I'm aware of that.
Roland: You have to be of noble birth to compete!
William: A detail. The landscape is food. Do you want to eat or don't you?
Roland: If the nobles find out who you are there'll be the devil to pay.
William: Then pray that they don't.
Chaucer: Yes, behold my lord Ulrich, the rock, the hard place, like a wind from Guilderland he sweeps by blown far from his homeland in search of glory and honor, we walk in the garden of his turbulence.
[crowd is silent, cricket noise]
Kate: It is romantic though.
Roland: Are you a woman or a blacksmith?
Kate: Sometimes I'm both.
Wat: Say something about her breasts.
Roland: Yeah, you miss her breasts.
William: Her breasts.
Chaucer: Ye... yes, you... you could, umm... umm... but I... I would tend to look above her breasts, William.
William: Well I... I miss her throat.
Chaucer: Uh, still higher really, toward the heavens.
Kate: The moon at least, her breasts were not that impressive.
William: Father, I am afraid, I won't know the way back home.
John Thatcher: Don't be foolish, William, you just follow your feet.
William: This is a disaster.
Roland: [staring at the tent material] Nah, I think it'll tunic up quite nicely.
William: [on asking Kate to mend his armor] It's just as well, they said I was daft for even asking.
William: The other armorers.
Kate: Is it because I'm a woman?
William: No, that said you were great with horseshoes, but shite with armor. The fact that you were a woman wasn't even mentioned.
Wat: I don't understand women.
Chaucer: Nor do I. But they understand us. Well, maybe not you.
William: I've waited my whole life for this moment.
Wat: You've waited your whole life for Sir Ector to shite himself to death?
Adhemar: Why didn't Ulrich finished him?
Jocelyn: He shows mercy.
Adhemar: Then he shows his weakness - that is all mercy is.
Jocelyn: Your name makes no matter to me, so long as I may call you my own.
William: Oh, but I am your own, Jocelyn.
Jocelyn: I demand poetry, and when I want it, and I want it now.
William: Your breasts... they're beneath your throat.