You have a grim taste in miracles, my friend. - Michael F. Flynn

Cigars were for talk; pipes for reflection.

There seemed no face within the cowl, only a black emptiness, and the notion sprang irresistibly to Dietrich’s mind that this was Death, now these dozen years overdue, treading a weary mountain trail in search of him. Then a flash of white showed within the shadow and Dietrich realized that it was only the angle of the sun that had made that hood seem so empty.

Had you learned to flatter the Kaiser, you would need not live in the back woods."
"Had you learned to live in the back woods, you would need not flatter the Kaiser.