There is something magnificent in having a country to love.
They enslave their children's children who make compromise with sin.
A stray hair, by its continued irritation, may give more annoyance than a smart blow.
It is not a great Xerxes army of words, but a compact Greek ten thousand that march safely down to posterity.
And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days.
Life is the jailer, death the angel sent to draw the unwilling bolts and set us free.