I don't have a weapon in my hand, and I don't have a uniform on my body, but my uniform now is my scars and weapon is my words, so I'm still serving.

When the body doesn't want to go on, the mind continues to fight.

And it is not always good to be healed in body. Nor is it always evil to die in battle, even in bitter pain. Were I permitted, in this dark hour I would choose the latter.

Jealous?...Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.

I do not love the bright sword for it's sharpness, nor the arrow for it's swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend

I've learned in my life that it's important to be able to step outside your comfort zone and be challenged with something you're not familiar or accustomed to. That challenge will allow you to see what you can do.