We (The British) have not journeyed across the centuries, across the oceans, across the mountains, across the prairies, because we are made of sugar candy.

They have done what they like. Their difficulty is to like what they have done.

If one has to submit, it is wasteful not to do so with the best grace possible.

What is the use of living, if it be not to strive for noble causes and to make this muddled world a better place for those who will live in it after we are gone?

Curse ruthless time! Curse our mortality. How cruelly short is the allotted span for all we must cram into it!

Today I may way before an awestruck world; I am still master of my fate. I am still captain of my soul.

Happy are the painters, for they shall not be lonely.