#war prayer

One eyed war father

As madness pursues you

So shall we

As death surely follows

So shall we

Heads of steel

Hearts of stone

By Odinn's breath

All is known

Grips of Iron

Cries of thunder

As wolf swallows sun

And we all go under

Brother Tyr

With strong command

Bless our path

Our final stand

Let us show no mercy

No fear, no faults

Let us hear the drums

That beat in our chest

And let our bones

Ambassador Londo Mollari: My shoes are too tight.

Vir Cotto: Excuse me?

Ambassador Londo Mollari: Something my father said. He was old, very old at the time. I went into his room, and he was sitting alone in the dark crying. So, I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My shoes are too tight. But, it doesn't matter, because I have forgotten how to dance." I never understood what that meant until now. My shoes are too tight. And, I have forgotten how to dance.

Vir Cotto: I don't understand.

It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.