Mysterious Love, Uncertain Treasure, Hast Thou More

There Is Not Any Present Moment That Is Unconnected With Some Future One. The Life Of Every Man Is A Continued Chain Of Incidents, Each Link Of Which Hangs Upon The Former. The Transition From Cause To Effect, From Event To Event, Is Often Carried On By Secret Steps, Which Our Foresight Cannot Divine, And Our Sagacity Is Unable To Trace. Evil May At Some Future Period Bring Forth Good; And Good May Bring Forth Evil, Both Equally Unexpected.

Better To Die Ten Thousand Deaths, Than Wound My Honour.

My Voice Is Still For War.

Nations With Nations Mix'd Confus'dly Die, And Lost In One Promiscuous Carnage Lie.

Virtue Which Shuns, The Day.