Two Verses.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard - Thomas Gray.

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Woman, on the whole, is a timid thing,
The din of war, the flash of steel unnerve her;
But, wronged in love,
There is no heart more murderous.

Medea - Euripides