The field of doom bears death as its harvest.

It is a light thing for whoever keeps his foot outside trouble to advise and counsel him that suffers.

To mourn and bewail your ill-fortune, when you will gain a tear from those who listen, this is worth the trouble.

A great ox stands on my tongue.

They sent forth men to battle, But no such men return; And home, to claim their welcome, Come ashes in an urn

In war, truth is the first casualty.

What is there more kindly than the feeling between host and guest?