Those with the least always lose the most in war.

Fools boast of what they will do. Heroes do it.

A friendship between a man and a woman was what you called it when one had been pursuing the other for a long time and never gotten anywhere.

One act presses upon another, on a path we have no choice but to follow, and each time there are reasons. We do what we must, we do what we are told, we do what is easiest. What else can we do but solve one sordid problem at a time? Then we look up and find... this.

It's hard to be done a favor by a man you hate. It's hard to hate him so much afterwards. Losing an enemy can be worse than losing a friend, if you've had him for long enough.

What’s the difference? Fill a hundred pits with dead Northmen, congratulations, have a parade! Kill one man in the same uniform as you? A crime. A murder. Worse than despicable. Are we not all men? All blood and bone and dreams?

Armour... is part of a state of mind... in which you admit the possibility... of being hit.