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To fly from, need not be to hate, makind All are not fit with them to stir and toil, Nor is it discontent to keep the mind Deep in its fountain.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'dAnd the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still
Adversity is the first path to truth.
I have always believed that all things depended upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves.
They never fail who die in a great cause.
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