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- A fair request should be followed by the deed in silence.
- Dante Alighieri (1265 - 1321), The Divine Comedy
- Now, I say to you today my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: - 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.'
- Martin Luther King Jr. (1929 - 1968), Speech at Civil Rights March on Washington, August 28, 1963
- Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.
- Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965), Hansard, November 11, 1947
- Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Othello", Act 3 scene 3
- Hamlet: Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
Polonius: By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel. Polonius: It is backed like a weasel. Hamlet: Or like a whale? Polonius: Very like a whale. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Hamlet", Act 3 scene 2
- The attempt and not the deed
Confounds us. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 2 scene 2
- And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 1 scene 3
- Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,-- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "King Richard III", Act 1 scene 1
- The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "The Merchant of Venice", Act 4 scene 1
- Vile deeds like poison weeds bloom well in prison air, it is only what is good in man, that wastes and withers there.
- Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), The Ballad of Reading Gaol
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