History repeats itself, and that's one of the things that's wrong with history.

History repeats itself, and that's one of the things that's wrong with history.

A light supper, a good night's sleep, and a fine morning have often made a hero of the same man read more

A light supper, a good night's sleep, and a fine morning have often made a hero of the same man who by indigestion, a restless night, and a rainy morning, would have proved a coward.

History, as it lies at the root of all science, is also the first
distinct product of man's spiritual read more

History, as it lies at the root of all science, is also the first
distinct product of man's spiritual nature; his earliest
expression of what can be called Thought.

History is nothing but a pack of tricks that we play upon the dead.

History is nothing but a pack of tricks that we play upon the dead.

History is a pageant, not a philosophy.

History is a pageant, not a philosophy.

The world's history is constant, like the laws of nature, and simple, like the souls of men. The same conditions read more

The world's history is constant, like the laws of nature, and simple, like the souls of men. The same conditions continually produce the same results.

For historians ought to be precise, truthful, and quite unprejudiced, and neither interest nor fear, hatred nor affection, should cause read more

For historians ought to be precise, truthful, and quite unprejudiced, and neither interest nor fear, hatred nor affection, should cause them to swerve from the path of truth, whose mother is history, the rival of time, the depository of great actions, the witness of what is past, the example and instruction of the present, the monitor of the future.

History teaches us that men and nations behave wisely once they have exhausted all other alternatives.

History teaches us that men and nations behave wisely once they have exhausted all other alternatives.

They died hard, those savage men-like wounded wolves at bay. They were filthy, and they were lousy, and they stunk. read more

They died hard, those savage men-like wounded wolves at bay. They were filthy, and they were lousy, and they stunk. And I loved them.