Blessed be those happy ages that were strangers to the dreadful fury of these devilish instruments of artillery, whose inventor I am satisfied is now in Hell, receiving the reward of his cursed invention, which is the cause that very often a cowardly base hand takes away the life of the bravest gentleman.

Faint heart ne'er won fair lady.

In order to attain the impossible, one must attempt the absurd.

A wise man does not trust all his eggs to one basket.

The pen is the tongue of the soul; as are the thoughts engendered there, so will be the things written.

When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical may be madness. To surrender dreams, this may be madness ...Maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be.

I do not believe that the Good Lord plays dice.