If the art of war were nothing but the art of avoiding risks, glory would become the prey of mediocre minds, I have made all the calculations; fate will do the rest.
Napoleon Bonaparte, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master, licking his face and howling, on a moonlit field after a battle. Napoleon was haunted by this scene until his own death.
To write history one must be more than a man, since the author who holds the pen of this great justiciary must be free from all preoccupation of interest or vanity.
