I will dine nowhere without your consent although with my present feelings I might be trusted with fifty virgins naked in a dark room.

The bravest man feels an anxiety 'circa praecordia' as he enters the battle; but he dreads disgrace yet more.

Had we taken ten sails, and let the eleventh to escape, being able to get at her, I could never have called it well done.

It is my turn now; and if I come back, it is yours.

Hardy, I do believe they have done it at last... my backbone is shot through.

My character and good name are in my own keeping. Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied.

I could not tread these perilous paths in safety, if I did not keep a saving sense of humor.