There’s nothing like a military man, even out of uniform.

A murderer is a killer without a uniform.

Poppies that honour the bravery of our fallen soldiers deserve to have a beautiful sunset to assist them in that endeavour.

Mine was still the stronger side. I was beloved by the soldiery, who generally care very little what god they serve so long as they are caressed by their king. (“The Story of Prince Alasi and the Princess Firouzkah”)

There were many, many times thereafter that Don regretted having enlisted - but so has every man who ever volunteered for military service.

I miss it: the smell of sand, sweat, and gunpowder, rings of salt from dried sweat on my pants’ legs, and around my waist just under where my armor sits.