A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylæ!

I learned to love despair.

Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.

If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.

We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.

In general I do not draw well with literary men -- not that I dislike them but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication.