I thought of all that worked dark pits Of war, and died Digging the rock where Death reputes Peace lies indeed.

Ambition may be defined as the willingness to receive any number of hits on the nose.

All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.

The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

All a poet can do today is warn.

Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.

And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

I, too, saw God through mud - The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.

All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.

When we step into positions of leadership, we make a whole set of promises we may not know we are making.

The sail, the play of its pulse so like our own lives: so thin and yet so full of life, so noiseless when it labors hardest, so noisy and impatient when least effective.

We need transparency in government spending. We need to put each government expenditure online so every Floridian can see where their tax money is being spent.

Always keep things in perspective.

If you don't learn anything but self discipline, then athletics is worthwhile.

When you get old, you can't talk to people because people snap at you.... That's why you become deaf, so you won't be able to hear people talking to you that way.

You can't predict tomorrow. And because you can't predict tomorrow, you have to be realistic with what you have today. It doesn't mean don't enjoy yourself but enjoy yourself at the right time.

Focus not on who you are, but on what you can do for others.

Call'd to the temple of impure delight He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home; He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam.

If you had told Sycorax that her son Caliban was as handsome as Apollo, she would have been pleased, witch as she was.