men (n.)
men (v.)
men (adj.)
Neither walls, theatres, porches, nor senseless equipage, make states,
but men who are able to rely upon themselves.—
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
Not to think of men above that which is written.
Choice word and measured phrase above the reach
Of ordinary men.
It shew'd discretion, the best part of valour.
Speak after the manner of men.
Thus aged men, full loth and slow,
The vanities of life forego,
And count their youthful follies o'er,
Till Memory lends her light no more.
We hold these truths to be self-evident,—that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
I said in my haste, All men are liars.
I am made all things to all men.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard;
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.
Men are but children of a larger growth.
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in; and the best of me is diligence.
Men are used as they use others.
Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade
Of that which once was great is passed away.
Are you good men and true?
Socrates said, "Bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and drink that they may live."
In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed;
In war, he mounts the warrior's steed;
In halls, in gay attire is seen;
In hamlets, dances on the green.
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below and saints above;
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Beneath the rule of men entirely great,
The pen is mightier than the sword.
The best of men
That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer;
A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit,
The first true gentleman that ever breathed.
When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away?
Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
In busy companies of men.
In the busy haunts of men.
Tower'd cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men.
For most men (till by losing rendered sager)
Will back their own opinions by a wager.
Ever judge of men by their professions. For though the bright moment of promising is but a moment, and cannot be prolonged, yet if sincere in its moment's extravagant goodness, why, trust it, and know the man by it, I say,—not by his performance; which is half the world's work, interfere as the world needs must with its accidents and circumstances: the profession was purely the man's own. I judge people by what they might be,—not are, nor will be.
Just men, by whom impartial laws were given;
And saints who taught and led the way to heaven.
Of all the floures in the mede,
Than love I most these floures white and rede,
Soch that men callen daisies in our toun.
Men
Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel.
I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works, to me expung'd and raz'd,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Man is not the creature of circumstances. Circumstances are the creatures of men.
Claret is the liquor for boys, port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy.
Clever men are good, but they are not the best.
The company of just and righteous men is better than wealth and a rich estate.
You shall comprehend all vagrom men.
To each his suff'rings; all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan,—
The tender for another's pain,
Th' unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
'T is folly to be wise.
Seneca thinks the gods are well pleased when they see great men contending with adversity.
Most wretched men
Are cradled into poetry by wrong:
They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.
When daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men.
O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do!
O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do!
For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone,
The genuine seeds of poesy are sown.
Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
Where wealth accumulates, and men decay.
Princes and lords may flourish or may fade,—
A breath can make them, as a breath has made;
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.
Words are women, deeds are men.
Histories make men wise; poets, witty; the mathematics, subtile; natural philosophy, deep; moral, grave; logic and rhetoric, able to contend.
Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them.
Stuff the head
With all such reading as was never read:
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,
And write about it, goddess, and about it.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men let him lie.
A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
If on my theme I rightly think,
There are five reasons why men drink,—
Good wine, a friend, because I'm dry,
Or lest I should be by and by,
Or any other reason why.
I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.
Hope, of all ills that men endure,
The only cheap and universal cure.
As men, we are all equal in the presence of death.
That power
Which erring men call Chance.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones.
As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious.
Far from gay cities and the ways of men.
Jove lifts the golden balances that show
The fates of mortal men, and things below.
When I consider life, 't is all a cheat.
Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit;
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay.
To-morrow's falser than the former day;
Lies worse, and while it says we shall be blest
With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And from the dregs of life think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give.
Few men have been admired by their own domestics.
Anaximander says that men were first produced in fishes, and when they were grown up and able to help themselves were thrown up, and so lived upon the land.
The little foolery that wise men have makes a great show.
If God were not a necessary Being of himself, he might almost seem to be made for the use and benefit of men.
Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day.
He cometh unto you with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney-corner.
Land of lost gods and godlike men.
That the gods superintend all the affairs of men, and that there are such beings as daemons.
Socrates said, "Bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and drink that they may live."
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
Adam the goodliest man of men since born
His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
I 've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
With coldness still returning;
Alas! the gratitude of men
Hath oftener left me mourning.
The gratitude of most men is but a secret desire of receiving greater benefits.
Before man made us citizens, great Nature made us men.
Great men are not always wise.
The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.
The greatest Clerkes be not the wisest men.
Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,—
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them,—but not for love.
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.
Flowery oratory he despised. He ascribed to the interested views of themselves or their relatives the declarations of pretended patriots, of whom he said, "All those men have their price."
Hearts of oak are our ships,
Hearts of oak are our men.
Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev'n to gods is misery.
The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they while their companions slept
Were toiling upward in the night.
Histories make men wise; poets, witty; the mathematics, subtile; natural philosophy, deep; moral, grave; logic and rhetoric, able to contend.
Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men.
Enflamed with the study of learning and the admiration of virtue; stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy patriots, dear to God, and famous to all ages.
Ignorance plays the chief part among men, and the multitude of words; but opportunity will prevail.
When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honour is a private station.
Men in great place are thrice servants,—servants of the sovereign or state, servants of fame, and servants of business.
The fear of some divine and supreme powers keeps men in obedience.
Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
Mur. We are men, my liege.
Mac. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be your being shall rehearse
When all the breathers of this world are dead;
You still shall live—such virtue hath my pen—
Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,—
Such men as live in these degenerate days.
Most people judge men only by success or by fortune.
Just are the ways of God,
And justifiable to men;
Unless there be who think not God at all.
What in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support,
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.
Literary men are . . . a perpetual priesthood.
If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.
Men lived like fishes; the great ones devoured the small.
He used to say that other men lived to eat, but that he ate to live.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
Oh that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of wayfaring men!
He reads much;
He is a great observer, and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men.
I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Temple was a man of the world amongst men of letters, a man of letters amongst men of the world.
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under 't.
Measures, not men, have always been my mark.
Of this stamp is the cant of, Not men, but measures.
Aristotle said melancholy men of all others are most witty.
Men met each other with erected look,
The steps were higher that they took;
Friends to congratulate their friends made haste,
And long inveterate foes saluted as they pass'd.
But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.
On their own merits modest men are dumb.
Men the most infamous are fond of fame,
And those who fear not guilt yet start at shame.
Bias used to say that men ought to calculate life both as if they were fated to live a long and a short time, and that they ought to love one another as if at a future time they would come to hate one another; for that most men were bad.
Most wretched men
Are cradled into poetry by wrong:
They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults,
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad.
Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.
Men must work, and women must weep.
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new.
It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in,—glittering like the morning star full of life and splendour and joy. . . . Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men,—in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded.
Be noble! and the nobleness that lies
In other men, sleeping but never dead,
Will rise in majesty to meet thine own.
If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
Solid men of Boston, banish long potations!
Solid men of Boston, make no long orations!
Men of few words are the best men.
Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie: to be laid in the balance they are altogether lighter than vanity.
It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in,—glittering like the morning star full of life and splendour and joy. . . . Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men,—in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded.
As men of inward light are wont
To turn their optics in upon 't.
The men of England,—the men, I mean, of light and leading in England.
Men of most renowned virtue have sometimes by transgressing most truly kept the law.
Men of polite learning and a liberal education.
Yet let not each gay turn thy rapture move;
For fools admire, but men of sense approve.
"As for that," said Waldenshare, "sensible men are all of the same religion." "Pray, what is that?" inquired the Prince. "Sensible men never tell."
Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,—
Such men as live in these degenerate days.
'T is an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery's the food of fools;
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit.
Your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions.
Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn'd
Firm concord holds, men only disagree
Of creatures rational.
It was a common saying of Myson that men ought not to investigate things from words, but words from things; for that things are not made for the sake of words, but words for things.
How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they?
All men possess in their bodies a poison which acts upon serpents; and the human saliva, it is said, makes them take to flight, as though they had been touched with boiling water. The same substance, it is said, destroys them the moment it enters their throat.
Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame
A mechanized automaton.
As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather.
Why don't the men propose, Mamma?
Why don't the men propose?
O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!
Quit yourselves like men.
Classical quotation is the parole of literary men all over the world.
Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law.
I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.
I am not in the roll of common men.
All men that are ruined, are ruined on the side of their natural propensities.
Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves.
Wise men say nothing in dangerous times.
The best laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft a-gley;
And leave us naught but grief and pain
For promised joy.
For out of the old fieldes, as men saithe,
Cometh al this new corne fro yere to yere;
And out of old bookes, in good faithe,
Cometh al this new science that men lere.
Everybody likes and respects self-made men. It is a great deal better to be made in that way than not to be made at all.
Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn'd
Firm concord holds, men only disagree
Of creatures rational.
But so fair,
She takes the breath of men away
Who gaze upon her unaware.
The Grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou 'rt named: Nature, appall'd,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
That disease
Of which all old men sicken,—avarice.
Think on this doctrine,—that reasoning beings were created for one another's sake; that to be patient is a branch of justice, and that men sin without intending it.
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
So comes a reckoning when the banquet's o'er,—
The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more.
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men.
As many men, so many minds; every one his own way.
Socrates . . . .
Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd
Wisest of men.
Men, some to business, some to pleasure take;
But every woman is at heart a rake.
Men, some to business, some to pleasure take;
But every woman is at heart a rake.
Speak after the manner of men.
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
The spirits of just men made perfect.
Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean men.
The strength
Of twenty men.
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
On one occasion Aristotle was asked how much educated men were superior to those uneducated: "As much," said he, "as the living are to the dead."
Lest men suspect your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.
Where Nature's end of language is declin'd,
And men talk only to conceal the mind.
My Lord St. Albans said that Nature did never put her precious jewels into a garret four stories high, and therefore that exceeding tall men had ever very empty heads.
But woe awaits a country when
She sees the tears of bearded men.
Ah, tell them they are men!
Till their own dreams at length deceive 'em,
And oft repeating, they believe 'em.
Wiser in his own conceit than seven men that can render a reason.
Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,
Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon,
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea:
Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems.
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new.
The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.
All men think all men mortal but themselves.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
In men this blunder still you find,—
All think their little set mankind.
Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns.
There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old.
Wise men say that there are three sorts of persons who are wholly deprived of judgment,—they who are ambitious of preferments in the courts of princes; they who make use of poison to show their skill in curing it; and they who intrust women with their secrets.
There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
Titles are marks of honest men, and wise;
The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
Men to be of one mind in an house.
The tongues of dying men
Enforce attention like deep harmony.
There are truths which are not for all men, nor for all times.
In my mind, he was guilty of no error, he was chargeable with no exaggeration, he was betrayed by his fancy into no metaphor, who once said that all we see about us, kings, lords, and Commons, the whole machinery of the State, all the apparatus of the system, and its varied workings, end in simply bringing twelve good men into a box.
For twelve honest men have decided the cause,
Who are judges alike of the facts and the laws.
Unlearned men of books assume the care,
As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair.
Such and so various are the tastes of men.
Mur. We are men, my liege.
Mac. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,—
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
Brave men were living before Agamemnon.
When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle.
Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you!
As Stephen Sly and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell,
And twenty more such names and men as these
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in; and the best of me is diligence.
Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel
No self-reproach.
The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung
To their first fault, and withered in their pride.
You know who critics are?—the men who have failed in literature and art.
What constitutes a state?
. . . . . . .
Men who their duties know,
But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain.
. . . . . . .
And sovereign law, that state's collected will,
O'er thrones and globes elate,
Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Men who prefer any load of infamy, however great, to any pressure of taxation, however light.
What constitutes a state?
. . . . . . .
Men who their duties know,
But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain.
. . . . . . .
And sovereign law, that state's collected will,
O'er thrones and globes elate,
Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it:
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field,
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence
And portance in my travels' history;
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak,—such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline.
There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond.
The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home:
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.
O men with sisters dear,
O men with mothers and wives,
It is not linen you 're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!
O men with sisters dear,
O men with mothers and wives,
It is not linen you 're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!
As the French say, there are three sexes,—men, women, and clergymen.
The world knows nothing of its greatest men.
And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben,
Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when
The world was worthy of such men.
Where, where was Roderick then?
One blast upon his bugle horn
Were worth a thousand men.
In pride, in reasoning pride, our error lies;
All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies.
Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes:
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell,
Aspiring to be angels, men rebel.
If they make you not then the better answer, you may say they are not the men you took them for.
Young men are fitter to invent than to judge, fitter for execution than for counsel, and fitter for new projects than for settled business.
Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein.
Young men think old men are fools; but old men know young men are fools.
