When the souls rise up in glory, yours shall not be shunned nor sunderered, but shall be the prize of the gods' gardens. Even your darkness shall be treasured then, and all your pain made holy.

Guard your honor. Let your reputation fall where it will. And outlive the bastards.

When the time comes to leap in faith whether you have your eyes open or closed or scream all the way down or not makes no practical difference.

The Imperial Service could win a war without coffee, but would prefer not to have to.

I'd storm heaven for you, if I knew where it was.

How could you be a Great Man if history brought you no Great Events, or brought you to them at the wrong time, too young, too old?

Colonel Otto, do you have a, perhaps, fuller and more detailed account than your preliminary one of why my Imperial Security building is now largely an underground installation? From a technical perspective.