God seeks comrades and claims love, the Devil seeksslaves and claims obedience.

God seeks comrades and claims love, the Devil seeksslaves and claims obedience.

Tyrant, step from the throne, and give place to thy master.
[Fr., Tyran, descends du trone et fais place read more

Tyrant, step from the throne, and give place to thy master.
[Fr., Tyran, descends du trone et fais place a ton maitre.]

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; read more

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeered!

One act of obedience is better than one hundred sermons.

One act of obedience is better than one hundred sermons.

There is a secret pride in every human heart that revolts at tyranny. You may order and drive an individual, read more

There is a secret pride in every human heart that revolts at tyranny. You may order and drive an individual, but you cannot make him respect you.

Men are still men. The despot's wickedness
Comes of ill teaching, and of power's excess,--
Comes of read more

Men are still men. The despot's wickedness
Comes of ill teaching, and of power's excess,--
Comes of the purple he from childhood wears,
Slaves would be tyrants if the chance were theirs.

Wicked men obey from fear; good men, from love.

Wicked men obey from fear; good men, from love.

Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.

Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.

I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years;
And should read more

I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years;
And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,
That I should open to the list'ning air
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms
And make pretense of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine, if I may call offense,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence;
Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
Who now reproved'st me for't--