A word spoken in season, at the right moment, is the mother of ages. - Thomas Carlyle

Not all his men may sever this,
It yields to friends', not monarchs', calls;
My whinstone house my castle is— I have my own four walls.

Democracy will prevail when men believe the vote of Judas as good as that of Jesus Christ

World,—this man is not a slave with thee! None of thy promotions is necessary for him. His place is with the stars of Heaven: to thee it may be momentous, to him it is indifferent, whether thou place him in the lowest hut, or forty feet higher at the top of thy stupendous high tower, while here on Earth. The joys of Earth that are precious, they depend not on thee and thy promotions. Food and raiment, and, round a social hearth, souls who love him, whom he loves: these are already his. He wants none of thy rewards;