If You Ever Have To Make A

War Is Not Its Own End, Except In Some Catastrophic Slide Into Absolute Damnation. It's Peace That's Wanted. Some Better Peace Than The One You Started With.

When The Time Comes To Leap In Faith Whether You Have Your Eyes Open Or Closed Or Scream All The Way Down Or Not Makes No Practical Difference.

Oh, Was That Liquor Of Yours A Stimulant?" Asked Elena. "i Wondered Why He Didn't Fall Asleep." "couldn't You Tell?" Chuckled Mayhew. "not Really." Miles Twisted His Head To Take In Elena's Upside-down Worried Face, And Smile In Weak Reassurance. Sparkly Black And Purple Whirlpools Clouded His Vision. Mayhew's Laughter Faded. "my God," He Said Hollowly, "you Mean He's Like That All The Time?

Cecil Flashed A Grin. "quite. Plus Your Rather Irritating Habit Of Treating Your Superior Officers As Your, Ah..." Cecil Paused, Apparently Groping Again For Just The Right Word. "equals?" Miles Hazarded. "cattle," Cecil Corrected Judiciously.

Never Argue With A Pedant Over Nomenclature. It Wastes Your Time And Annoys The Pedant.