Friendships Ought To Be Immortal, Hostilities Mortal.

Such Is The Nature Of Crowds: Either They Are Humble And Servile Or Arrogant And Dominating. They Are Incapable Of Making Moderate Use Of Freedom, Which Is The Middle Course, Or Of Keeping It.

That Sense – The Only True Patriotism – Comes Slowly And Springs From The Heart: It Is Founded Upon Respect For The Family And Love For The Soil. Premature ‘liberty’ Of This Kind Would Have Been A Disaster: We Should Have Been Torn To Pieces By Petty Squabbles Before We Had Ever Reached Political Maturity, Which, As Things Were, As Made Possible By The Long Quiet Years Under Monarchical Government; For It Was That Government Which, As It Were, Nursed Our Strength And Enabled Us Ultimately To Produce Sound Fruit From Liberty, As Only A Politically Adult Nation Can.

Toil And Pleasure, Dissimilar In Nature, Are Nevertheless United By A Certain Natural Bond.

A Certain Peace Is Better And Safer Than A Victory In Prospect; The Former Is At Your Own Disposal, The Latter Depends Upon The Gods.

Rome Has Grown Since Its Humble Beginnings That It Is Now Overwhelmed By Its Own Greatness.