I'm a little wounded, but I am not slain; I will lay me down to bleed a while. Then I'll rise and fight again.
Kings fight for empires, madmen for applause.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures. War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying. If all the world be worth the winning, Think, oh think it worth enjoying: Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee.
A coward is the kindest animal; 'Tis the most forgiving creature in a fight.
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