“For the Spartans, it wasn’t walls or magnificent public buildings that made a city; it was their own ideals. In essence, Sparta was a city of the head and the heart. And it existed in its purest form in the disciplined march of a hoplite phalanx on their way to war!”

They bleed not in the mouth but through their ink – indelible and dark.

I would rather shoot my arrows than keep them in my bow, I would rather risk it all than risk nothing at all.

I wish I knew then all of the things I know now that I am enough.

I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.

I found him in all the chaos, and that was when my world started making sense again.

The judgement that people cast on you for how you do or do not appear is nothing more than just a projection of their own wounds.

Be grateful for what you have now, even if it’s not everything you wanted.

It seems strange how we look in the same mirror, yet what stares back, is so painfully different.