Quotes
Quotes about Riot
A man's country is not a certain area of land, of mountains, rivers, and woods, but it is a principle; and patriotism is loyalty to that principle.
I realize that patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred toward any one.
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is it's natural manure.
It fits us therefore ripely Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.
So the gods bless me, When all our offices have been oppressed With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept With drunken spilth of wine, when every room Hath blazed with lights and brayed with minstrelsy, I have retired me to a wasteful cock And set mine eyes at flow.
For morality life is a war, and the service of the highest is a sort of cosmic patriotism which also calls for volunteers.
Patriotism is when love of your own people comes first; nationalism, when hate for people other than your own comes first.
Nations have lost their old omnipotence; the patriotic tiedoes not hold. Nations are getting obsolete, we go and live where we will.
There is a higher form of patriotism than nationalism, and that higher form is not limited by the boundaries of one's country; but by a duty to mankind to safeguard the trust of civilization.
Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam, afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car; Or on wide waving wings expanded bear The flying chariot through the fields of air.
George Washington, with his right art upraised, sits his iron horse at the lower corner of Union Square. . . . Should the General raise his left hand as he has raised his right, it would point to a quarter of the city that forms a haven for the oppressed and suppressed of foreign lands. In the cause of national or personal freedom they have found refuge here, and the patriot who made it for them sits his steed, overlooking their district, while he listens through his left ear to vaudeville that caricatures the posterity of the proteges.
Passion is the mob of the man, that commits a riot upon his reason.
From distant climes, o'er wide-spread seas we come, Though not with much eclat or beat of drum; True patriots all; for be it understood We left our country for our country's good. No private views disgraced our generous zeal, What urged our travels was our country's weal.
For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
I realize that patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred toward any one.
"My country, right or wrong," is a thing that no patriot would think of saying except in a desperate case. It is like saying, "My mother, drunk or sober."
Heroism on command, senseless violence, and all the loathsome nonsense that goes by the name of patriotism - how passionately I hate them!
Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam, His first best country ever is at home.
Who fears to speak of Ninety-Eight? Who blushes at the name? When cowards mock the patriot's fate, Who hangs his head for shame?
Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.
That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the runs of Iona.
The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
Is it an offence, is it a mistake, is it a crime to take a hopeful view of the prospects of your own country? Why should it be? Why should patriotism and pessimism be identical? Hope is the mainspring of patriotism.
Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all others because you were born in it.
You'll never have a quiet world till you knock the patriotism out of the human race.
