“Any moment might be our last.”

What are the children of men, but as leaves that drop at the wind’s breath?

Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death.

There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible – magic to make the sanest man go mad.

The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.

Men are so quick to blame the gods.

The sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return.

The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.

Always to be best, and distinguished above the rest.

Everything looks bad if you remember it.

A small rock holds back a great wave.

Many shining actions owe their success to chance, though the general or statesman receive the applause.

There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.

Many shining actions owe their success to chance, though the general or statesman receive the applause.

There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins with his footwork or the skill of his hands.

There will be killing till the score is paid.

Pray, for all men need the aid of the gods.

I agree that faith is essential to success in life, but I do not accept your definition of faith, i.e. belief in life after death.

How strange when an illusion dies. It’s as though you’ve lost a child.

We must create our own world or we will die from inaction.

Dying without actually fully living, without waking up to our lives while we have the chance, is an ongoing and significant risk.

Men are born soft and supple; dead, they are stiff and hard. Plants are born tender and pliant; dead, they are brittle and dry. Thus whoever is stiff and inflexible is a disciple of death.

The things a man has to have are hope and confidence in himself against odds. And he must be ready to choose death before dishonor without making too much song and dance about it.

He who dies before he dies does not die when he dies.

If you are truthful you will survive. If you lie you shall perish.