Alexander, of whom men tell many legends, lived by his own. Achilles must have Patroklos. He might love his Briseis; but Patroklos was the friend till death. At their tombs in Troy, Alexander and Hephaistion had sacrificed together. Wound Patroklos, and Achilles will have your blood.

All men seek esteem; the best by lifting themselves, which is hard to do, the rest by shoving others down, which is much easier.

It is something, I thought, when a king can put a courtesan to the blush.

Half the world's troubles come from men not being trained to resent a fallacy as much as an insult.

An audience of twenty thousand, sitting on its hands, could not have produced such an echoing silence.

What keeps the democracy alive at all but the hatred of excellence; the desire of the base to see no head higher than their own?

I thought, There goes my lord, whom I was born to follow. I have found a King. And, I said to myself, looking after him as he walked away, I will have him, if I die for it.