Yes, young men, Italy owes to you an undertaking which has merited the applause of the universe. You have conquered and you will conquer still, because you are prepared for the tactics that decide the fate of battles.

Bacchus has drowned more men than Neptune.

The priest is the personification of falsehood.

Posterity will call you the great emancipator, a more enviable title than any crown could be, and greater than any merely mundane treasure.

To this wonderful page in our country's history another more glorious still will be added, and the slave shall show at last to his free brothers a sharpened sword forged from the links of his fetters.

A bold onset is half the battle.

Ah, no, far be from me a thought which I loathe like poison.