Still stands thine ancient sacrifice - An humble and a contrite heart.

When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains, and the women come out to cut up what remains, jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains and go to your gawd like a soldier.

When man has come to the Turnstiles of Night, all the creeds in the world seem to him wonderfully alike and colorless.

We had a kettle; we let it leak: Our not repairing made it worse. We haven't had any tea for a week... The bottom is out of the Universe.

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race... and the hearts of the meanest were humbled.

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you except the will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

All the people like us are we, and everyone else is They.