As he gripped my hand I perceived that he was smitten but unbowed.
The Allies' heads were "bloody but unbowed," and they were still the masters of their fate.
He knew a poem by a man who wrote, "My head is bloody but unbowed."
Under the bludgeoning of chanceMy head is bloody, but unbowed.
I went out of that cruel room resolved that "beneath all the bludgeonings of chance ...