My Sweetest Hope Is To Lose Hope

To Myself Alone Do I Owe My Fame. [fr., Je Ne Dois Qu'a Moi Seul Toute Ma Renommee.]

Ambition Becomes Displeasing When It Is Once Satiated; There Is A Reaction; And As Our Spirit, Till Our Last Sigh, Is Always Aiming Toward Some Object, It Falls Back On Itself, Having Nothing Else On Which To Rest; And Having Reached The Summit, It Longs To Descend.

Your Arm Is Unvanquished, But Not Invincible.

Every Brave Man Is A Man Of His Word; To Such Base Vices He Cannot Stoop, And Shuns More Than Death The Shame Of Lying.

It Is The Guilt, Not The Scaffold, Which Constitutes The Shame.