In Times Of War, The

Nothing So Cements And Holds Together All The Parts Of A Society As Faith Or Credit, Which Can Never Be Kept Up Unless Men Are Under Some Force Or Necessity Of Honestly Paying What They Owe To One Another.

Few Are Those Who Wish To Be Endowed With Virtue Rather Than To Seem So.

Nothing Is More Praiseworthy, Nothing More Suited To A Great And Illustrious Man Than Placability And A Merciful Disposition.

You Must Therefore Love Me, Myself, And Not My Circumstances, If We Are To Be Real Friends.

Let War Yield To Peace, Laurels To Paeans.