Is there not some chosen curse, some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, red with uncommon wrath, to blast read more

Is there not some chosen curse, some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man who owes his greatness to his country's ruin!

He [Caesar] loved the treason, but hated the traitor.

He [Caesar] loved the treason, but hated the traitor.

A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at read more

A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague.

Treason is not own'd when 'tis descried;
Successful crimes alone are justified.

Treason is not own'd when 'tis descried;
Successful crimes alone are justified.

For while the treason I detest,
The traitor still I love.

For while the treason I detest,
The traitor still I love.

Men will confess to treason, murder, arson, false teeth, or a wig. How many of them will own up to read more

Men will confess to treason, murder, arson, false teeth, or a wig. How many of them will own up to a lack of humor?

Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason.

Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason.

Is there not some chosen curse,
Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven,
Red with uncommon read more

Is there not some chosen curse,
Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven,
Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man
Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?

Cynicism is intellectual treason.

Cynicism is intellectual treason.