Let us so live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.
They can conquer who believe they can.
Sometimes the cure for restlessness is rest.
Sorrow was like the wind. It came in gusts.
Forget injuries, never forget kindnesses.
Sitting in the back of that Hummer, my head in a hood, my hands lashed behind my back, lurching back and forth while the bruises swelled up on my head, terrorism suddenly felt a lot riskier.
It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.