When kings are building, draymen have something to do.
[Ger., Wenn die Konige bau'n, haben die Karrner zu thun.]

When kings are building, draymen have something to do.
[Ger., Wenn die Konige bau'n, haben die Karrner zu thun.]

And in the years he reigned; through all the country wide,
There was no cause for weeping, save when read more

And in the years he reigned; through all the country wide,
There was no cause for weeping, save when the good man died.
[Fr., Ce n'est que lorsqu'il expira
Que le peuple, qui l'enterra pleura.]

His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all read more

His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder.

The first art to be learned by a ruler is to endure envy.
[Lat., Ars prima regni posse te read more

The first art to be learned by a ruler is to endure envy.
[Lat., Ars prima regni posse te invidiam pati.]

Princes that would their people should do well
Must at themselves begin, as at the head;
For read more

Princes that would their people should do well
Must at themselves begin, as at the head;
For men, by their example, pattern out
Their limitations, and regard of laws:
A virtuous court a world to virtue draws.

Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.

Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.

I am the State.
[Fr., L'etat c'est moi.]

I am the State.
[Fr., L'etat c'est moi.]

'Tis so much to be a king, that he only is so by being so.
- Michael read more

'Tis so much to be a king, that he only is so by being so.
- Michael Eyquen de Montaigne,

For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
read more

For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed--
All murdered; for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life
Were brass impregnable; and humored thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence, Throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
For you have but mistook me all this while.
I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends. Subjected thus,