Quotes About Honor

There breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray As men's are, dead.

You would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory the old lie: Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori.

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War. Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity. Yet these elegies are to this generation in no sense consolatory. They may be to the next. All a poet can do today is to warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful.

Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.

He has trifled with the sacred memory of my husband, thought the Professor's widow. On my life and honor, I will make him pay for it.

to be told, for the first time, in this place. As the Judge

Stop! If you must make excuses, Basil, I must ask no questions. You have a secret which you wish to keep from me; and I beg you will keep it. I have never been accustomed to treat my sons as I would not treat any other gentlemen with whom I may happen to be associated. If they have private affairs, I cannot interfere with those affairs. My trust in their honour is my only guarantee against their deceiving me; but in the intercourse of gentlemen that is guarantee enough.

You gave me your promise, was the reply, spoken with the same immovable self-possession. You must write for me, or break your word.

Shame is Prides cloke.

If you can bring nothing to this place but your carcass, keep out. (Dedication for a Plot of Ground)

For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, And though late, a sure reward succeeds.

A gentleman accepts the responsibility of his actions and bears the burden of their consequences.

The writer's only responsibility is to his art. He will be completely ruthless if he is a good one. He has a dream. It anguishes him so much he must get rid of it. He has no peace until then. Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency, security, happiness, all, to get the book written. If a writer has to rob his mother, he will not hesitate; the 'Ode on a Grecian Urn' is worth any number of old ladies.

Truth is one. It doesn't change. It covers all things which touch the heart - honor and pride and pity and justice and courage and love.

women will show pride and honor about almost anything except love ...

The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

It was like a meeting between two iron knights of the old time, not for material gain but for principle—honor denied with honor, courage denied with courage—the deed done not for the end but for the sake of the doing, put to the ultimate test and proving nothing save the finality of death and the vanity of all endeavor.

There remains yet something of honor and pride, of life.

Y son los buenos los que no pueden rechazar la cuenta cuando se la presentan. Por la sencilla razón de que les pueden obligar a pagarla

old General Compson had gone to his fathers at last—or to whatever bivouac old soldiers of that war, blue or gray either, probably insisted on going to since probably no place would suit them for anything resembling a permanent stay —

En el Sur os da vergüenza ser vírgenes. Jóvenes. Mayores. Todos mienten sobre eso. Porque para las mujeres significa menos -dijo padre. Decía que los hombres fueron los que inventaron la virginidad, no las mujeres.

This isn't from me, but from Faulkner, and may be the best advice I've seen for any writer. (Write of) the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed – love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice.

We are men of action. Lies do not become us. -- Westley