Man is a poetical animal, and delights in fiction.

The garb of religion is the best cloak for power.

Genius is native to the soil where it grows — is fed by the air, and warmed by the sun — and is not a hot - house plant or an exotic.

Those who are at war with others are not at peace with themselves.

To-day kings, to-marrow beggars, it is only when they are themselves that they are nothing.

First impressions are often the truest, as we find (not unfrequently) to our cost when we have been wheedled out of them by plausible professions or actions. A man's look is the work of years, it is stamped on his countenance by the events of his whole life, nay, more, by the hand of nature, and it is not to be got rid of easily.

A King (as such) is not a great man. He has great power, but it is not his own.