All that tread,
The globe are but a handful to the tribes,
That slumber in its bosom."

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.

"The press is a mill that grinds all that is put into its hopper. Fill the hopper with poisoned grain and it will grind it to meal, but there is death in the bread."

"Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness -- a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster-children into strength and athletic proportion."

"Weep not that the world changes -- did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were a cause indeed to weep."