Where is the coward that would not dare to fight for such a land as Scotland?

The willow which bends to the tempest often escapes better than the oak which resists it.

It was woman that taught me cruelty, and on woman therefore I have exercised it.

Adversity is like the period of the rain. . . cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals; yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate.

Methinks I will not die quite happy without having seen something of that Rome of which I have read so much.

There never will exist anything permanently noble and excellent in the character which is a stranger to resolute self-denial.

Chess is a sad waste of brains.