His resolve is not to seem the bravest, but to be.
There is no sickness worse for me than words that to be kind must lie.
My will is mine...I shall not make it soft for you.
We shall perish by guile just as we slew.
He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.
Who, except the gods, can live time through forever without any pain?