Winding Up Days With Toil And Nights

Give Me A Bowl Of Wine. I Have Not That Alacrity Of Spirit Nor Cheer Of Mind That I Was Wont To Have.

Making Night Hideous.

Since Brass, Nor Stone, Nor Earth, Nor Boundless Sea, But Bad Mortality O'ersways Their Power, How With This Rage Shall Beauty Hold A Plea, Whose Action Is No Stronger Than A Flower?

She's Beautiful, And Therefore To Be Wooed; She Is A Woman, Therefore To Be Won.

From This Day Forward Until The End Of The World...we In It Shall Be Remembered...we Band Of Brothers.