For Too Much Rest Becomes A Pain.

A Glorious Death Is His, Who For His Country Falls.

I Can't Even Say The Word 'titmouse' Without Giggling Like A Schoolgirl.

But Curb Thou The High Spirit In Thy Breast, For Gentle Ways Are Best, And Keep Aloof From Sharp Contentions.

Even When Someone Battles Hard, There Is An Equal Portion For One Who Lingers Behind, And In The Same Honor Are Held Both The Coward And The Brave Man; The Idle Man And He Who Has Done Much Meet Death Alike.

Dreams Are Sent By God.