I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.

A thousand years may scare form a state. An hour may lay it in ruins.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand; I saw from out the wave of her structure's rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble pines, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.

I really cannot know whether I am or am not the Genius you are pleased to call me, but I am very willing to put up with the mistake, if it be one.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand.

I slept and dreamt that life was beauty; I woke and found that life was duty.

Know ye not who would be free themselves must strike the blow? by their right arms the conquest must be wrought?