To Speak Of Atrocious Crime In Mild

The Nerve That Never Relaxes, The Eye That Never Blanches, The Thought That Never Wanders, The Purpose That Never Wavers - These Are The Masters Of Victory.

Nothing Is So Rash As Fear; And The Counsels Of Pusillanimity Very Rarely Put Off, Whilst They Are Always Sure To Aggravate, The Evils From Which They Would Fly.

Whatever Is Fitted In Any Sort To Excite The Ideas Of Pain And Danger, That Is To Say, Whatever Is In Any Sort Terrible, Or Is Conversant About Terrible Objects, Or Operates In A Manner Analogous To Terror, Is A Source Of The Sublime; That Is, It Is Productive Of The Strongest Emotion Which The Mind Is Capable Of Feeling... When Danger Or Pain Press Too Nearly, They Are Incapable Of Giving Any Delight, And Are Simply Terrible; But At Certain Distances, And With Certain Modifications, They May Be, And They Are, Delightful, As We Every Day Experience.

I Cannot Conceive How Any Man Can Have Brought Himself To That Pitch Of Presumption, To Consider His Country As Nothing But Carte Blanche, Upon Which He May Scribble Whatever He Pleases.

Adversity Is A Severe Instructor, Set Over Us By One Who Knows Us Better Than We Do Ourselves, As He Loves Us Better Too. He That Wrestles With Us Strengthens Our Nerves And Sharpens Our Skill. Our Antagonist Is Our Helper. This Conflict With Difficulty Makes Us Acquainted With Our Object, And Compels Us To Consider It In All Its Relations. It Will Not Suffer Us To Be Superficial.