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Repost from Sworn Swords
βThen out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the gate:
βTo every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his Gods,"
Repost from Wehrwolf Dynamics
Peasants be like: "Nay, gentle sirs, the sworde ben merely a symbole quite overrated. Out on yon bloode-tylled fielde where the wound-byrdes gather, thou wouldst surely fynde: many a sworde, clutched firm in hande, a speare-wound bare upon bloodied breast! The humble polearm ben the true Meister of the carrione-fielde, nix the sworde!"
Yet upon coming into wealthe, a shyninge sworde they purchase with haste!
Curious!
Repost from THE NORTH FOLK
My name is not my own, It is borrowed from my ancestors, I must return it unstained. My honor is not my own, It is loaned from my decedents, I must give it to them unbroken. My blood is not my own, it is a gilt to generations yet unborn, I should carry it with responsibility.
β Vincent Enlund
In wilderness the reality of heathen belief is obvious. Only in a prison is Christianity plausible. Only in an institution is atheism a possibility.
