Of all the passions that inspire a man in a battle, none, we have to admit, is so powerful and so constant as the longing for honor and reknown.
The wounds received in battle bestow honor, they do not take it away.
It is always better to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning. For every one of us, living in this world means waiting for our end. Let whoever can win glory before death. When a warrior is gone, that will be his best and only bulwark.
A soldier never dies. His blood makes the grass green for his children.
It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair.
Gashed with honourable scars,Low in Glory's lap they lie;Though they fell, they fell like stars,Streaming splendour through the sky.
Respect was mingled with surprise, And the stern joy which warriors feel In foemen worthy of their steel.
