An acre in Middlesex is better than a principality in Utopia. The smallest actual good is better than the most magnificent promises of impossibilitie… - Thomas Babington Macaulay, 1st Baron Macaulay

Perhaps no person can be a poet, or even enjoy poetry, without a certain unsoundness of mind.

It is now time for us to pay a decent, a rational, a manly reverence to our ancestors, not by superstitiously adhering to what they, in other circumstances, did, but by doing what they, in our circumstances, would have done.

"Heap heavier still the fetters; bar closer still the grate;
Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruelhate.
But by the shades beneath us, and by the gods above,
Add not unto your cruel hate your still more cruel love.
********
Then leave the poor plebian his single tie to life -
The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife,
The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vext soul endures,
The kiss in which he half forgets even such a yoke as yours.
Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast with pride;
Still let the bridegroom's arms enfold an unpolluted bride.
Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame,
That turns the coward's heart to steel, the sluggard's blood to flame;
Lest when our latest hope is fled ye taste of our despair,
And learn by proof in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare."
A quote from Macauley where he describes how outrages in the early times of Rome goaded the plebians to rise against the patricians.