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The world is made up for the most part of morons and natural tyrants, sure of themselves, strong in their read more
The world is made up for the most part of morons and natural tyrants, sure of themselves, strong in their own opinions, never doubting anything.
What is more cruel than a tyrant's ear?
[Lat., Quid violentius aure tyranni?]
What is more cruel than a tyrant's ear?
[Lat., Quid violentius aure tyranni?]
For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
One raised in read more
For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
One raised in blood and one in blood established;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughtered those that were the means to help him;
A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy.
Under conditions of tyranny it is far easier to act than to think.
Under conditions of tyranny it is far easier to act than to think.
Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God.
Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God.
'Twixt kings and tyrans there's this difference known:
Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their owne.
'Twixt kings and tyrans there's this difference known:
Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their owne.
The closed door and the sealed lips are prerequisites to tyranny.
The closed door and the sealed lips are prerequisites to tyranny.
No tyrant need fear till men begin to feel confident in each
other.
No tyrant need fear till men begin to feel confident in each
other.
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--
