So It Is That The Gods Do

Be Strong, Saith My Heart; I Am A Soldier; I Have Seen Worse Sights Than This.

A Man Dies Still If He Has Done Nothing, As One Who Has Done Much.

So It Is That The Gods Do Not Give All Men Gifts Of Grace - Neither Good Looks Nor Intelligence Nor Eloquence.

Generations Of Men Are Like The Leaves. In Winter, Winds Blow Them Down To Earth, But Then, When Spring Season Comes Again, The Budding Wood Grows More. And So With Men: One Generation Grows, Another Dies Away.

We Got A Little Rule Back Home: If It's Brown, Drink It Down. If It's Black, Send It Back.