Hear me profess sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love
alike, and none less dear than read more

Hear me profess sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love
alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had
rather have eleven die nobly for their country than one
voluptuously surfeit out of action.

Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all other countries because you were born in it.

Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all other countries because you were born in it.

Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for
your country.

Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for
your country.

Who fears to speak of Ninety-Eight?
Who blushes at the name?
When cowards mock the patriot's fate,
read more

Who fears to speak of Ninety-Eight?
Who blushes at the name?
When cowards mock the patriot's fate,
Who hangs his head for shame?

A man who is good enough to shed his blood for his country is good enough to be given a read more

A man who is good enough to shed his blood for his country is good enough to be given a square deal afterwards. More than that no man is entitled to, and less than that no man shall have.

Is it an offence, is it a mistake, is it a crime to take a
hopeful view of the read more

Is it an offence, is it a mistake, is it a crime to take a
hopeful view of the prospects of your own country? Why should it
be? Why should patriotism and pessimism be identical? Hope is
the mainspring of patriotism.

American is the crucible of God. It is the melting pot where all
the races are fusing and reforming read more

American is the crucible of God. It is the melting pot where all
the races are fusing and reforming . . . these are the fires of
God you've come to. . . . Into the crucible with you all. God is
making the American.

Father of his country.
[Lat., Pater pariae.]

Father of his country.
[Lat., Pater pariae.]

Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native read more

Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land!