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It is a joyous thing, war. ?�You love your comrade so much in war. ?�When you see that your quarrel is just, and your blood is fighting well, tears rise to your eyes. A great sweet feeling of loyalty and of pity fills your heart on seeing your friend so valiantly exposing his body. ?�And then your are prepared to go and live or die with him, and for love not to abandon him. ?�And out of that, there arises such a delectation, that he who has not experienced it is not fit to say what delight is. ?�Do you think that a man who does that fears death? ?�Not at all, for he feels so strengthened, so elated, that he does not know where he is. ?�Truly he is afraid of nothing.