Better to die ten thousand deaths, Than wound my honour.

Plutarch has written an essay on the benefits which a man may receive from his enemies; and among the good fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, that by the reproaches which it casts upon us, we see the worst side of ourselves.

A brother's sufferings claim a brother's pity.

What can be nobler than the idea it gives us of the Supreme Being?

If our zeal were true and genuine we should be much more angry with a sinner than a heretic.

I always rejoice when I see a tribunal filled with a man of an upright and inflexible temper, who in the execution of his country's laws can overcome all private fear, resentment, solicitation, and even pity it self. Whatever passion enters into a sentence or decision, so far will there be in it a tincture of injustice. In short, justice discards party, friendship, kindred, and is therefore always represented as blind, that we may suppose her thoughts are wholly intent on the equity of a cause, without being diverted or prejudiced by objects foreign to it.

For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.