There are times when thinking about something is the worst possible policy.

We all have to learn to live with our losses, and to use our regrets to spur us on in the future.

There are times when thinking about something is the worst possible policy.

I was remembering the things we had done together, the times we had had. It would have been pleasant to preserve that comradeship in the days that came after. Pleasant, but alas, impossible. That which had brought us together had gone, and now our paths diverged, according to our natures and needs. We would meet again, from time to time, but always a little more as strangers; until perhaps at last, as old men with only memories left, we could sit together and try to share them.

You would always beat me; not so much because you are a better fighter as because you will not accept defeat.

We had been friends. We could not become strangers. It left only one thing: we must be enemies.

The secret of success in battle lies often not so much in the use of one's own strength but in the exploitation of the other side's weaknesses.