Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor; for 'tis the mind that makes the body rich
In right and service to their noble country.
Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard.
Th abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.
O for a horse with wings!
If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.