“I will not be triumphed over.”

Nothing could part us in life, but now in death we are likely to change places, you the Roman lying here in Egyptian soil, and I, helpless woman that I am, being buried in Italy.

Leave the fishing-rod, Great General, to us sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus. Your game is cities and kings and continents.

All strange and terrible events are welcome, but comforts we despise.

Is he a good man?” “Define ‘good’.

In praising Antony I have dispraised Caesar.

My honour was not yielded, but conquered merely.

Be it known that we, the greatest, are misthought.

Fool! Don’t you see now that I could have poisoned you a hundred times had I been able to live without you.

And make death proud to take us.

The only difference between ‘try’ and ‘triumph’ is varying degrees of ‘umph’

I look at you and I see the final triumph of stupidity in the world!

Triumph often is nearest when defeat seems inescapable.

Science is triumphant with far-ranging success, but its triumph is somehow clouded by growing difficulties in providing for the simple necessities of human life on earth.

At all times sincere friends of freedom have been rare, and its triumphs have been due to minorities.

At all times sincere friends of freedom have been rare, and its triumphs have been due to minorities, that have prevailed by associating themselves with auxiliaries whose objects often differed from their own; and this association, which is always dangerous, has sometimes been disastrous.

The greatest triumphs of propoganda have been accomplished, not by doing something, but by refraining from doing. Great is truth, but still greater, from a practical point of view, is silence about truth.

We have known the bitterness of defeat and the exultation of triumph, and from both we have learned there can be no turning back. We must go forward to preserve in peace what we won in war. A new era is upon us.