What Is Death To Me? I Have

It Is A Useless Life That Is Not Consecrated To A Great Ideal. It Is Like A Stone Wasted On The Field Without Becoming A Part Of Any Edifice.

I Don't See Why I Should Bow My Head When I Could Hold It High, Or Place It In The Hands Of My Enemies When I Can Defeat Them.

While A People Preserves Its Language; It Preserves The Marks Of Liberty.

Hold High The Brow Serene, O Youth, Where Now You Stand; Let The Bright Sheen Of Your Grace Be Seen, Fair Hope Of My Fatherland!

The Example Could Encourage Others Who Only Fear To Start.