Libby H.

“Bebeorh þé ðone bealo-níð, Béowulf léofa,
secg betsta, ond þé þæt sélre gecéos,
éce rǽdas; ofer-hýda ne gým,
mǽre cempa! Nú is þines mægnes blǽd
áne hwíle; eft sóna bið
þæt þec ádl oððe ecg eafoþes getwǽfeð,
oððe fýres feng oððe flódes wylm
oððe gripe méces oððe gáres fliht
oððe atol yldo, oððe éagena bearhtm
forsiteð ond forsworceð; semninga bið,
þæt ðec, dryht-guma, déað oferswýðeð.

O flower of warriors, beware of that trap.
Choose, dear Béowulf, the better part,
eternal rewards. Do not give way to pride.
For a brief while your strength is in bloom
but it fades quickly; and soon there will follow
illness or the sword to lay you low,
or a sudden fire or a surge of water
or jabbing blade or javelin from the air
or repellent age. Your piercing eye
will dim and darken; and death will arrive,
dear warrior, to sweep you away.”
― Seamus Heaney, Beowulf

“Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

“Ender was a destroyer, but what he destroyed was illusion, and the illusion had to die...the truth about ourselves. Somehow this ancient man is able to see the truth and it doesn't blind his eyes or drive him mad. I must listen to this voice and let its power come to me so I, too, can stare at the light and not die.”
― Orson Scott Card, Speaker for the Dead

“...now I'm a spent firework; but at least I've been a firework.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas