The tapestry of history is woven of many threads.
If you will not die for us, you cannot ask us to die for you.
Even a stunted tree reaches for sunlight.
Why is there ever this perverse cruelty in humankind, that makes us hurt most those we love best?
This is the secret that none dares tell who fights for a cause. Dying, we are all alike.
To recongnize that the treachery of one member of a house does not taint all born within it