In the love column: literature, irony, humor, the individual, and the defense of free expression.
It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with.
Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, and as long as you succeed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it.
And that prince who, relying entirely on their promises, has neglected other precautions, is ruined; because friendships that are obtained by payments, and not by greatness or nobility of mind, may indeed be earned, but they are not secured, and in time of need cannot be relied upon; and men have less scruple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler. — George Patton It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or the doer of deeds could have them better. Tonight the American flag floats from yonder hill or Molly Stark sleeps a widow!
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the Arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but he who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great devotion; who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails while daring greatly, knows that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls, who know neither victory nor defeat. They were bought for seven pounds and tenpence a man. — John Stark at the Battle of Bennington in 1777[If this call is neglected] I am determined to sustain myself for as long as possible, and die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor and that of his country.
Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!