The tyrant now
Trusts not to men: nightly within his chamber
The watch-dog guards his couch, the read more

The tyrant now
Trusts not to men: nightly within his chamber
The watch-dog guards his couch, the only friend
He now dare trust.

The only tyrant I accept in this world is the 'still small voice' within

The only tyrant I accept in this world is the 'still small voice' within

Hateful is the power, and pitiable is the life, of those who wish to be feared rather than loved.

Hateful is the power, and pitiable is the life, of those who wish to be feared rather than loved.

When the tyrant has disposed of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty and there is nothing to fear from them, read more

When the tyrant has disposed of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty and there is nothing to fear from them, then he is always stirring up some war or other, in order that the people may require a leader.

Under conditions of tyranny it is far easier to act than to think.

Under conditions of tyranny it is far easier to act than to think.

For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
One raised in read more

For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
One raised in blood and one in blood established;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughtered those that were the means to help him;
A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy.

I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years;
And should read more

I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years;
And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,
That I should open to the list'ning air
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms
And make pretense of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine, if I may call offense,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence;
Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
Who now reproved'st me for't--

The distrust of wit is the beginning of tyranny.

The distrust of wit is the beginning of tyranny.

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; read more

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeered!