Fattened in vice, so callous and so gross, he sins and sees not, senseless of his loss.
War is the trade of kings.
The bravest men are subject most to chance.
Good sense and good nature are never separated; and good nature is the product of right reason.
And nobler is a limited command, Given by the love of all your native land, Than a successive title, long and dark, Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark.
If thou dost still retain the same ill habits, the same follies, too, still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.