A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies.

Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.

Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.

Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.

It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.

Yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a laboring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion fringed with fire.

Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.