I feel my sinews slackened with the fright, and a cold sweat trills down all over my limbs, as if I were dissolving into water.

Men's virtues I have commended as freely as I have taxed their crimes.

So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil.

Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more; Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's: Souls know no conquerors.

That gloomy outside, like a rusty chest, contains the shoring treasure of a soul resolved and brave.

From Harmony, from heav'nly Harmony. This universal Frame began.

War is the trade of kings.