Self-defense Is Nature's Eldest Law.

Dancing Is The Poetry Of The Foot.

Reason Is A Crutch For Age, But Youth Is Strong Enough To Walk Alone.

To Tame The Proud, The Fetter'd Slave To Free, These Are Imperial Arts.

Even Victors Are By Victories Undone.

None Would Live Past Years Again, Yet All Hope Pleasure In What Yet Remain; And, From The Dregs Of Life, Think To Receive, What The First Sprightly Running Could Not Give.