These warriors of the Sacred Band were inscrutable; they loved their war and death and picking through the bones of time to sort out right from wrong, good from bad, holy from profane, honor from dishonor.

One man can make another's life so much better.

I'm reverent from a distance.

Grab reality by the balls and squeeze.

We've the new hard-steel, though why they're all so hot to pay twice the price when men're soft as clay and even wood will pierce the boldest belly, I can't say.

I thought we'd die there, quarrels in our backs, you for what you did and me for bearing witness.

You must become like yourself.