In life, since all men must die, since death is inevitable, why would any man choose to grow old and bitter in the darkness, avoiding glory and honor? I came to myself in a great stillness, to realize I was standing by the little mound. This is the mound of Leonidas, with its dust and rank grass its flowers and lizards, its stones, scruffy laurels, and hot gusts of wind. I knew now that something real happened here.
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