I do not allow myself vain regrets or foreboding.

We are scattered, stunned; the remnant of heart left alive is filled with brotherly hate... Whose fault? Everybody blamed somebody else. Only the dead heroes left stiff and stark on the battlefield escape.

Peace, comfort, quiet, happiness, I have found away from home. Only your own family, those nearest and dearest, can hurt you.

We are divorced, North from South, because we have hated each other so. If we could only separate politely, and not have a horrid fight for divorce.

I am always on the women's side.

Of all our sorrows, memory is the worst.

A freshet in the autumn does not compensate for a drought in the spring.