“He wanted to give me a blade? What's wrong with that?”“Blades,” he whispered, “and sheaths go together. And your sheath will only ever hold my blade.”
“A naked blade sheathed in velvet, that was Raphael's voice.”
“You still haven't said where you come from. Where is your home?"I said, "I am a sheath, so home is wherenever my shade, my blade is.”
“Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Andúril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. 'Elendil!' he cried. 'I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!”
“Temper is a weapon that we hold by the blade.”
“The shoulder blades sticking out as if they wanted to grow wings through that skin. Little blades, she was helpless.”