All beauty is sad. [...] For it fades.
Blood always aids blood, my friend.
You know how it is. Boy meets girl, girl wants boy dead. An everyday story, really.
Our modern world, though infinitely more complex than that of ancient Greece, is also far more superficial. Where the Greeks offered simple psychological training, we live in an age of style and spin in which perceptions of good and evil slither and shift with the political view of the moment.
A man with wife and daughters has no place losing his temper.
It is a merchant's nature to quibble over coins. It is how we become rich and buy satin shirts. The problems of who governs this area is one for another day.
Evil will never be countered while good men do nothing.
[F]ear is a great ally.
None of us can choose the manner of our passing.
Win or lose, we achieve nothing in the world that we understand [...]' 'But then the world does not matter.' 'Indeed it does not [...] It is good to understand that.
A man must know his limitations.
Makes no sense to me,' said Huntsekker. 'You don't know who is at your door, but you know the thoughts of a man twenty miles away.' 'Life is a mystery,' said Powdermill, with a gold-toothed grin. 'It is that, right enough,' agreed Huntsekker.
No need for confusion, my dear Mulgrave... Beautiful wine and sour vinegar come from exactly the same source. Curiously if one leaves a bottle of wine open for long enough it will become vinegar. Happily in this house wine never survives long enough to go bad.
The point is [...] that you never know whether you've lost until you've lost. Anything can happen.
I think maybe it is better to believe than not to believe. But I couldn't tell you why.
Come back and stand with us, lad. We will all go down together that's what makes us who we are.
When healers yearn to kill then hope begins to die ... Evil cannot be overcome by evil.
You are getting too old for this. A man is as old as he feels, woman! And how old do you feel? About ninety.
It is not hard to change when your biggest problem is whether the weeds prosper in a vegetable patch.
Love is for fools. It is a surging of blood in the loins ... there is no mystery, and no magic. Find someone else, my boy.
Never be glad that another man has died. Not ever. [...] It never ends. Never... ever... be glad to kill.
Your face may be gone, but you know who you are.
One day the enemy will cross the Great Green. They will bring war and tragedy to these eastern lands. Such is the nature of vile men. Yet we cannot live in dread of them. We cannot hide behind these high walls, our hearts trembling. For that is not life. We must accept the needs and the duties of each day, and face them one at a time.
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