Whither Shall I Flee? To No Country

I Would Rather Die A Thousand Deaths Than Surrender.

Any Victory Would Be Dear At Such A Price.

It Is Good That War Is So Horrible, Or We Might Grow To Like It.

Say What You Mean To Do...and Take It For Granted You Mean To Do Right. Never Do A Wrong Thing To Make A Friend Or Keep One...you Will Wrong Him And Wrong Yourself By Equivocation Of Any Kind.

Death, In Its Silent Sure March Is Fast Gathering Those Whom I Have Longest Loved, So That When He Shall Knock At My Door, I Will More Willingly Follow.