There's no salvation except through courage, though I never could stomach the 'strong man'-- captain of his soul, Henley and Nietzsche and that sort--goes against the grain with me.

What do you say, Eustace ?" "They meant well," answered Miltoun, "but they protested too much." Lord Dennis moved his head in assent.
"To be captain of your soul!" continued Miltoun in a bitter voice; "it's a pretty phrase!" "Pretty enough," murmured Lord Dennis.
Miltoun looked at him.
"And suitable to you," he said.
"No, my dear," Lord Dennis answered dryly, "a long way off that, thank God!" His eyes were fixed intently on the place where a large trout had risen in the stillest toffee-coloured pool.

He knew that fellow, a half-pounder at least, and his thoughts began flighting round the top of his head, hovering over the various merits of the flies.

His fingers itched too, but he made no movement, and the ash-tree under which he sat let its leaves tremble, as though in sympathy.
"See that hawk ?" said Miltoun.
At a height more than level with the tops of the hills a buzzard hawk was stationary in the blue directly over them.

Inspired by curiosity at their stillness, he was looking down to see whether they were edible; the upcurved ends of his great wings flirted just once to show that he was part of the living glory of the air--a symbol of freedom to men and fishes.
Lord Dennis looked at his great-nephew.