The World Laughs At Another

Dying People Don't Need Medicine, The Ones Who Remain Do.

On This Battlefield Man Has No Better Weapon Than His Intelligence, No Other Force But His Heart.

But Because Their Ancestors Were Men Of Righteousness, Shall We Consent To The Abuses Of Their Degenerate Descendants? Because They Did Us A Great Good, Would We Be Guilty If We Prevented Them From Doing Us Evil?

To Live Is To Be Among Men, And To Be Among Men Is To Struggle, A Struggle Not Only With Them But With Oneself; With Their Passions, But Also With One's Own.

I Don't See Why I Should Bow My Head When I Could Hold It High, Or Place It In The Hands Of My Enemies When I Can Defeat Them.