That the whole free people of any nation ought to be exercised to arms, not only the example of our ancestors, as appears by the acts of parliament made in both kingdoms to that purpose, and that of the wisest governments among the ancients; but the advantage of choosing out of great numbers, seems clearly to demonstrate. For in countries where husbandry, trade, manufactures, and other mechanical arts are carried on, even in time of war, the impediments of men are so many and so various, that unless the whole people be exercised, no considerable numbers of men can be drawn out, without disturbing those employments, which are the vitals of the political body. Besides, that upon great defeats, and under extreme calamities, from which no government was ever exempted, every nation stands in need of all the people, as the ancients sometimes did of their slaves. And I cannot see why arms should be denied to any man who is not a slave, since they are the only true badges of liberty; and ought never, but in times of utmost necessity, to be put into the hands of mercenaries or slaves: neither can I understand why any man that has arms should not be taught the use of them.
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Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Sorrow calls no time that 's gone; Violets plucked, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again.
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Highly important in poetry is Rhythm, but the word means merely 'flow,' so that rhythm belongs to prose as well as to poetry. Good rhythm is merely a pleasing succession of sounds. Meter, the distinguishing formal mark of poetry and all verse, is merely rhythm which is regular in certainfundamental respects, roughly speaking is rhythm in which the recurrence of stressed syllables or of feet with definite time-values is regular. There is no proper connection either in spelling or in meaning between rhythm and rime (which is generally misspelled 'rhyme'). The adjective derived from'rhythm' is 'rhythmical'; there is no adjective from 'rime' except 'rimed.' The word 'verse' in its general sense includes all writing in meter. Poetry is that verse which has real literary merit.
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He never is alone that is accompanied with noble thoughts.
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Deeds, not words shall speak me.
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Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man Commands all light, all influence, all fate. Nothing to him falls early, or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
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Death hath so many doors to let out life.
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Go far -- too far you cannot, still the farther. The more experience finds you: and go sparing. One meal a week will serve you, and one suit, Through all your travels; for you'll find it certain. The poorer and the baser you appear, The more you look through still.
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O woman, perfect woman! what distraction Was meant to mankind when thou wast made a devil!
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We of the twentieth century should not allow ourselves to think vaguely of the Middle Ages as a benighted or shadowy period when life and the people who constituted it had scarcely anything in common with ourselves. In reality the men of the Middle Ages were moved by the same emotions and impulses as our own, and their lives presented the same incongruous mixture of nobility and baseness.
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Arms are the only true badge of liberty. The possession of arms is the distinction of a free man from a slave.
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No other city in the U.S. can divest the visitor of so much money with so little enthusiasm. In Dallas, they take away with gusto; in New Orleans, with a bow; in San Francisco, with a wink and a grin. In New York, you're lucky if you get a grunt.
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If a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
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Little deeds of kindness, little words of love, help to make earth happy like the heaven above.
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Let who will make the laws of a nation so long as I am permitted to make her songs.
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Fanaticism is the child of false zeal and of superstition, the father of intolerance and of persecution.
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Deeds, not words shall speak to me.
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R.J. Fletcher: This is an embarrassment. A disgrace. What do you think R.J. Fletcher Senior would be saying if he were alive today?
Richard Fletcher: 'Help me out of this box, I can't breathe in here! Help, let me out!'
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Man is his own star and the soul that can render an honest and perfect man commands all light, all influence, all fate.
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Smoking is one of the leading causes of statistics.
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Little drops of water, Little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean, And the pleasant land. So the little minutes, Humble though they be, Make the mighty ages, Of eternity.
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Decision: Something a man makes when he cannot get anyone to serve on a committee.
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I am bigger than anything that can happen to me. All these things, sorrow, misforturne, and suffering, are outside my door. I am in the house, and I have the key.
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