Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. >>
How poor are they that have not patience. What wound did ever heal but >>
We were not born to sue, but to command. >>
What war has always been is a puberty ceremony. It's a very rough one, >>
War is regarded as nothing but the continuation of politics by other m >>
War is the great scavenger of thought. It is the sovereign disinfectan >>
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.