XIII
The Mother, patriot though she were, uttered her sentiments through choking voice and tender trembling words, and the young man caring nothing, fearing nothing, rushed gallantly on to doom and to death. Clara Barton.
The soldier’s fear is the fear of being thought to fear. Bovee.
Self trust is the essence of heroism. Emerson.
I have no fear of the battle field; I want to go to the suffering men. Clara Barton.
I was always afraid of everything except when someone was to be rescued from danger or pain. Clara Barton.
Like the true Anglo-Saxon, loyal and loving, tender and true, the Mother held back her tears with one hand while with the other she wrung her fond farewell and passed her son on to the State.
Clara Barton.