“Arm yourself, my heart: the thing that you must do is fearful, yet inevitable.”

Death is the only water to wash away this dirt.

The same man cannot well be skilled in everything; each has his special excellence.

No one who lives in error is free.

Nothing is hopeless; we must hope for everything.

Old loves are dropped when new ones come.

Who then will dare to say I’m weak or timid? No, they’ll say I’m loyal as a friend, ruthless as a foe, so much like a hero destined for glory.

She came into the world fierce and stubborn and then she learned to hate.

Mortal fate is hard. You’d best get used to it.

Silence is true wisdom’s best reply.

Wine is a terrible foe, hard to wrestle with.

Question everything. Learn something. Answer nothing.

Friendship doubles your joys, and divides your sorrows.

Every man is like the company he wont to keep.

Do not grieve so much for a husband lost that it wastes away your life.

Hate is a bottomless cup; I will pour and pour.

Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish.

She used to sleep listening to his heartbeat on his arm.

Whenever death may surprise us, let it be welcome if our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear and another hand reaches out to take up our arms.

These people are very unskilled in arms – with 50 men they could all be subjected and made to do all that one wished.

I’d give my right arm to be ambidextrous.

Love is always open arms. If you close your arms about love you will find that you are left holding only yourself.

Let’s stripe down our shields & fall into each other arms.

Every time I embrace a black woman I’m embracing slavery, and when I put my arms around a white woman, well, I’m hugging freedom.

Minds, however, are conquered not by arms, but by love and nobility.