"I count him braver who overcomes his desires
than him who overcomes his enemies,
for the hardest victory is the victory over self."



Nor happiness nor majesty nor fame
Nor peace nor strength nor skill in arms or arts
Shepherd those herds whom Tyranny makes tame,
Verse echoes not one beating of their hearts,
History is but the shadow of their shame,
Art veils her glass, or from the pageant starts
As to Oblivion their blind millions fleet,
Staining that Heaven with obscene imagery
Of their own likeness. What are numbers knit
By force or custom? Man who man would be,
Must rule the empire of himself; in it
Must be supreme, establishing his throne
On vanquished will, quelling the anarchy
Of hopes and fears, being himself alone.

Percy Bysshe Shelley