One day the enemy will cross the Great Green. They will bring war and tragedy to these eastern lands. Such is the nature of vile men. Yet we cannot live in dread of them. We cannot hide behind these high walls, our hearts trembling. For that is not life. We must accept the needs and the duties of each day, and face them one at a time.
While men compete in war, there will be warriors. While there are warriors, there will be princes among warriors. Among the princes will be kings, and among the kings an emperor.
It would be a fine thing if war could be conducted as a game where no lives were lost. At the end of a battle combatants could meet [...] and drink and talk.
No matter how impossible this war, I shall fight to win. Whatever I have to do, I will do.
Most wars are fought for greed, but we are luckier here we fight for our lives and the lives of the people we love.
In real war an officer may have only one chance at succeeding. Consider each problem.
War. What was it about the prospect of some bloody enterprises that reduced men to the level of animals?
How many hopes and dreams are trapped within these bones? How many wonders lie never to be discovered? This is what war is. Desolation, despair and loss. There are no victors.
When your life has been spent in one war after another for forty-five years, you have to be pretty handy to survive.
I don't give a damn, laddie. Until the actual moment, when they cut me down, I shall still be looking to win. And the gods of war are fickle at best.
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