If I have to be a soldier I must be a good one, anything else is unthinkable
Walking abroad, one is the admiration of all little boys, and meets an approving glance from every eye of elderly.
The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.
The English say, Yours Truly, and mean it. The Italians say, I kiss your feet, and mean, I kick your head.