The skin of the coward changes color all the time, he can't get a grip on himself, he can't sit still, he squats and rocks, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his heart racing, pounding inside the fellow's ribs, his teeth chattering. He dreads some grisly death. But the skin of a brave soldier never blanches. He's all control. Tense but no great fear.

...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.

She threw into the wine which they were drinking a drug which takes away grief and passion and brings forgetfulness of all ills

The hearts of the great can be changed.

Being popular is the most important thing in the world!

Each man delights in the work that suits him best.

Too many kings can ruin an army