Live. Grow stronger. Fight another day.
When he had told MacLeod, the Highlander had heard ... what? Caution, perhaps a kind of tactics. Fight on a day that is more suitable. Perhaps he looked on the motto as a kind of weakness. The Highlander was a warrior first and had only learned slowly to be anything else. He would probably be dead before he reached a thousand, unless Methos could hammer some sense through his skull. Whether Methos could be bothered was a question yet to be answered.
Amanda, of course, heard it with the sense of evasion, 'sneakiness' to use her own word. Methos was a master at letting people project theselves onto the idea of him, even if it amused him to mess with it when it came to MacLeod. Of course Amanda heard what she did. Get away when you can, fight only when you must. Far more suitable for a thief and, no offense intended, a woman. Not really built for fighting, but almost as good at surviving as he had been at her age. As long as MacLeod didn't kill her with his idealism, anyway.
Silas, dear child, had heard keep fighting forever. Fight this day and every other day. He had always been a warrior, too, from a time before poets thought up the noble ideals that drove the Highlander. A simple world view, perhaps, but charming in its own way. Caspian had heard much the same although his version of fighting forever was a little more complicated. Silas had literally wanted only a fresh horse, his battle axe and an unending row of people to face or mow down.
Kronos, brother and leader and enemy and child, had probably come closest to understanding. Fight another day. Yes. Grow stronger in order to do it and do it better. Yes. At least according to his own understanding of 'better'.
No one really noticed the key point: for Methos everything that followed 'Live' was an afterthought.