The hero dead cannot expire: The dead still play their part.
Alas, how can we help but mourn When hero bosoms yield their breath! A century itself may bear But once the flower of such a death.
Knights of the spirit; warriors in the cause Of justice absolute 'twixt man and man.
Chance has never yet satisfied the hope of a suffering people.
Aspire rather to be a hero than merely appear one.
Their silent wounds have speech More eloquent than men; Their tones can deeper reach Than human voice or pen.
But fame is theirs - and future days On pillar'd brass shall tell their praise; Shall tell - when cold neglect is dead - "These for their country fought and bled."
Today we did what we had to do. They counted on America to be passive. They counted wrong.
I would rather be remembered by a song than by a victory.
Anyone who does anything to help a child in his life is a hero to me.
You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness. If we fail, at least let our children and our children’s children say of us we justified our brief moment here. We did all that could be done.
Life hangs as nothing in the scale against dear Liberty!
Freedom lies in being bold.
Valor grows by daring, fear by holding back.
All gave some, Some gave all.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall with our English dead.
Their own souls rose and cried Alarum when they heard the sudden wail Of stricken freedom and along the gale Saw her eternal banner quivering wide.
Then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
Chance has never yet satisfied the hope of a suffering people. Action, self-reliance, the vision of self and the future have been the only means by which the oppressed have seen and realized the light of their own freedom.
They saw their injured country's woe; The flaming town, the wasted field; Then rushed to meet the insulting foe; They took the spear, - but left the shield.
If we love our country, we should also love our countrymen.
People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.
We who are left, how shall we look again Happily on the sun or feel the rain Without remembering how they who went Ungrudgingly and spent Their lives for us loved, too, the sun and rain?
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