To make a new Thermopylae

 

The mountains look on Marathon --

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dream'd that Greece might yet be free

For, standing on the Persians' grave,

I could not deem myself a slave.

...

Must we but weep o'er days more blest?

Must we but blush? – Our fathers bled.

Earth! render back from out thy breast

A remnant of our Spartan dead!

Of the three hundred grant but three,

To make a new Thermopylae.

Byron, The Isles of Greece

The Ideal and the Higher Self

"Some regard their ideal with shy humility and would like to deny it: they fear their higher self because, when it speaks, it speaks demandingly."

Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human

The Brightest of All

 

“Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.”

― William Shakespeare