“The blood of man should never be shed but to redeem the blood of man. It is well shed for our family, for our friends, for our God, for our country, for our kind. The rest is vanity; the rest is crime.”

Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little.

Education is the cheap defense of nations.

General rebellions and revolts of a whole people never were encouraged now or at any time. They are always provoked.

There is a boundary to men’s passions when they act from feelings; but none when they are under the influence of imagination.

By hating vices too much, they come to love men too little.

The essence of tyranny is the enforcement of stupid laws.

Our patience will achieve more than our force.

That the greatest security of the people, against the encroachments and usurpations of their superiors, is to keep the Spirit of Liberty constantly awake, is an undeniable truth.

The credulity of dupes is as inexhaustible as the invention of knaves.

Nothing is so fatal to religion as indifference.

Turn over a new leaf.

The true danger is when liberty is nibbled away, for expedience, and by parts.

The greatest sin is to do nothing because you can only do a little.

Dogs are indeed the most social, affectionate, and amiable animals of the whole brute creation.

All government, indeed every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue, and every prudent act, is founded on compromise and barter.

A coward’s courage is in his tongue.

I have divers times endeavoured to see and to know, what parts the Blood consists of; and at length I have observ’d, taking some Blood out of my own hand, that it consists of small round globuls driven through a Crystalline humidity or water.

It was as though our love were a small creature caught in a trap and bleeding to death: I had to shut my eyes and wring its neck.

When mighty roast beef was the Englishman’s food It ennobled our hearts and enriched our blood– Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good. Oh! the roast beef of England. And Old England’s roast beef.

Blood is the god of war’s rich livery.

Masks beneath masks until suddenly the bare bloodless skull.

Tear me open and I will bleed in your name. My heart aches from your absence, but in the aching and breaking is where my art is born.

Tear me apart cut open my flesh, until I bleed out just like the rest of the mess.

I release my handsfree the reins, as the blood diminishes through my empty veins; allowing life to flow as I go into the light that’s resided in my soul.