윌리엄 피트
Oh, my country! how I leave my country!
Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who posses it; and this I know, my lords: that where law ends, tyranny begins.
Unlimited power corrupts the possessor.
Theoretical principals must sometimes give way for the sake of practical advantages.
The press is like the air, a chartered libertine.
Poverty of course is no disgrace, but it is damned annoying.
Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves.
Don’t talk to me about a man’s being able to talk sense; everyone can talk sense. Can he talk nonsense?
Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged heart.