We Are Quick To Flare Up, We

It Is Entirely Seemly For A Young Man Killed In Battle To Lie Mangled By The Bronze Spear. In His Death All Things Appear Fair.

I Can't Even Say The Word 'titmouse' Without Giggling Like A Schoolgirl.

You, Why Are You So Afraid Of War And Slaughter? Even If All The Rest Of Us Drop And Die Around You, Grappling For The Ships, You’d Run No Risk Of Death: You Lack The Heart To Last It Out In Combat—coward!

Too Many Kings Can Ruin An Army

Wise To Resolve, And Patient To Perform.