Girls are small and polite and smiley. They wear dresses and their hair is long and it’s pulled into shapes behind their heads or on either side.

We are the choices we make. And have to make. We aren’t anything else.

It's not how we fall. It's how we get back up again.

You're never more alive than in battle." "Never more dead after," I say.

As destruction goes, the monster said behind him, this is all remarkably pitiful.

A man is capable of thought. A crowd is not.

How do you know yer alive if you don't hurt?