Everyone is ready to speak ill of a stranger.
The moving light, rejoicing in its strength, Sped from the pyre of pine, and urged its way, In golden glory, like some strange new sun.
Fear hurries on my tongue through want of courage.
Better to die on your feet than live on your knees.
Words are the physicians of a mind diseased.
There's only few people who have strength to honor someone's achievement without envy.