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I have to confess that I have so rarely experienced triumph that I cannot claim to know it well enough to judge, but it seems to be at best a momentary joy followed instantly by sadness, and, then, of necessity, by wariness.

Next to a lost battle, nothing is so sad as a battle that has been won.

The moment of victory is much too short to live for that and nothing else.

Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.

Victory is fleeting. Losing is forever.

You ask me if I will not be glad when the last battle is fought, so far as the country is concerned I, of course, must wish for peace, and will be glad when the war is ended, but if I answer for myself alone, I must say that I shall regret to see the war end.

Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival.

The most glorious moments in your life are not the so-called days of success, but rather those days when out of dejection and despair you feel rise in you a challenge to life, and the promise of future accomplishments.

I will remember this day for the rest of my life. There is nothing you can say. It's just like you won the match after the earthquake and it just feels great.

Deep down, I reckon the sweetest moment will come when it's finally all over. When, at last, I know that I can stop fighting. Of course it'll also be a little sad. The sweetest moments, y'know, always come with just a little sadness.