Virtue alone has majesty in death.
Men are but men; we did not make ourselves.
Prayer ardent opens heaven.
What is revenge but courage to call in our honor's debts, and wisdom to convert others' self-love into our own protection?
Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.
O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.