cowards

Trophy hunters are like politicians, they both like to pull the trigger from the comfort of a safe distance.

You must let other people to challenge your truths; you must let them to question your faith and the reason for this is very simple: Your truths might be very wrong; your faith might be very mistaken. Don__ be a castle; you need bridges surrounding you, not walls! And remember that walls belong only to cowards!

Do we really need a study on why people lie? They lie because it's easy, and cowards are good at "easy." Telling the truth takes moxie, and few have it.

In short Donald Trump lies compulsively in large part because of who and what he is - a coward. This is why Mike Brzezinski said recently, "He brings nothing to the table.

Only cowards cave. The brave get assassinated.

There are enough cowards in the world without killing a brave creature for so little reason.

Cowards are always much more dangerous than heroes.

Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once.

Explanations are for cowards.

I had as many doubts as anyone else. Standing on the starting line, we're all cowards.

I can only miss the true and I can only mourn the brave. Cowards make it easy to let go because you're not losing anything worth having.

Cowards say it can't be done, critics say it shouldn't have been done, creator say well done.

For the cowards, all doors are locked; for the daring, all doors are open!

Those who serve and those who ruleLepers, kings and mindless foolsEmpire leaders, tyrant's toolsAll will fade with timeHail the cowards, brave at heartThe ugly and the beautifulThose who never felt their soulsAll live transient lives

They__e so brave," she said. "They__e all dead." "Only a coward would think of that," she said scornfully.

Cowards never dare to love.

Fighting is like champagne. It goes to the heads of cowards as quickly as of heroes. Any fool can be brave on a battlefield when it's be brave or else be killed.

And then we cowardswho loved the whisperingevening, the houses,the paths by the river,the dirty red lightsof those places, the sweetsoundless sorrow__e reached our hands outtoward the living chainin silence, but our heartstartled us with blood,and no more sweetness then,no more losing ourselveson the path by the river__o longer slaves, we knewwe were alone and alive.(Translated By Geoffrey Brock)