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One murder made a villain,
Millions a hero.--Princes were privileg'd
To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.
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One murder made a villain,
Millions a hero.--Princes were privileg'd
To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.
Ah! why will kings forget that they are men,
And men that they are brethren?
Every unpunished murder takes away something from the security of every man's life.
Every unpunished murder takes away something from the security of every man's life.
Absolutism tempered by assassination.
Absolutism tempered by assassination.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
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Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been performed
Too terrible for the ear. The time has been
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end. But now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools. This is more strange
Than such a murder is.
Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and
you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, read more
Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and
you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a god.
Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.
Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families.
Erroneous vassals! the great King of Kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded
That thou read more
Erroneous vassals! the great King of Kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded
That thou shalt do no murder. Will you then
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's?
A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at read more
A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague.
Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder
Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder