Death Submits To No One.

The Life, Which Others Pay, Let Us Bestow, And Give To Fame What We To Nature Owe.

Men Are So Quick To Blame The Gods: They Say That We Devise Their Misery. But They Themselves- In Their Depravity- Design Grief Greater Than The Griefs That Fate Assigns.

That Is The Gods' Work, Spinning Threads Of Death Through The Lives Of Mortal Men, An All To Make A Song For Those To Come.

First You Don't Want Me To Get The Pony, Then You Want Me To Take It Back. Make Up Your Mind!

It Is Not Unseemly For A Man To Die Fighting In Defense Of His Country.