The stubbornest of wills Are soonest bended, as the hardest iron, O'er-heated in the fire to brittleness,Flies soonest into fragments, shivered through.
No yield to the dead! Never stab the fighter when he's down. Where's the glory, killing the dead twice over?
A man is nothing but breath and shadow.
War loves to seek its victims in the young.
It made our hair stand up in panic fear.
God's dice always have a lucky roll.