Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck.
You shall more command with years than with your weapons.
O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.
We were not born to sue, but to command.
Care I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit.