Percy Bysshe Shelley

All of us who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.

Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

Why do men fight who were born to be brothers?

In a republic, that paradise of debility, the politician is a petty tyrant who obeys the laws.

The only thing I command is respect.