Related:

• War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour but an empty bubble. -- Dryden, John (1631-1700)
• Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er agai
  And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain....
• Any soldier worth his salt should be antiwar. And still there are things worth fighting for.
  -- General H. Norman Schwarzkopf...
• He rais'd a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down.
  -- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Alexander's Feast, Line 169...
• As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion, Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.
• He who sits on the pinnacle of power is still sitting on his own backside
• Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
  -- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Alexander's Feast, Line 160...
• Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book vi, Line 544...
• Sits he on ever so high a throne, a man still sits on his bottom.