He who fears to venture as far as his heart urges and his reason permits, is a coward; he who ventures further than he intended to go, is a slave.

In these times we fight for ideas and newspapers are our fortress.

It is only kindred griefs that draw forth our tears, and each weeps really for himself.

The foolish race of mankind are swarming below in the night; they shriek and rage and quarrel - and all of them are right.

Money is the god of our time, and Rothschild is his prophet.

Whether a revolution succeeds or fails people of great hearts will always be sacrificed to it.

Lyrical poetry is much the same an every age, as the songs of the nightingales in every spring-time.