01-12-2006, 01:25 AM
There is a minor school of warrior poetry that migh be termed: "I'm alive to write this poem because I ran like hell." For instance, that very non-Spartan poet who tossed away his shield and took to his heels. It ends, (loosely translated)
Screw that shield!
I can always buy another just as good!
Screw that shield!
I can always buy another just as good!
Pecunia non olet