In Conclusion, The Arms Of

For That Reason, Let A Prince Have The Credit Of Conquering And Holding His State, The Means Will Always Be Considered Honest, And He Will Be Praised By Everybody Because The Vulgar Are Always Taken By What A Thing Seems To Be And By What Comes Of It; And In The World There Are Only The Vulgar, For The Few Find A Place There Only When The Many Have No Ground To Rest On.

Then Also Pretexts For Seizing Property Are Never Wanting, And One Who Begins To Live By Rapine Will Always Find Some Reason For Taking The Goods Of Others, Whereas Causes For Taking Life Are Rarer And More Quickly Destroyed.

War Is A Profession By Which A Man Cannot Live Honorably; An Employment By Which The Soldier, If He Would Reap Any Profit, Is Obliged To Be False, Rapacious, And Cruel.

A Prince Who Is Not Himself Wise Cannot Be Wisely Advised. . . . Good Advice Depends On The Shrewdness Of The Prince Who Seeks It, And Not The Shrewdness Of The Prince On Good Advice.

When Evening Comes, I Return Home And Go Into My Study. On The Threshold I Strip Off My Muddy, Sweaty Clothes Of Everyday, And Put On The Robes Of Court And Palace, And In This Graver Dress I Enter The Antique Courts Of The Ancients And Am Welcomed By Them, And There I Taste The Food That Alone Is Mine, And For Which I Was Born. And There I Make Bold To Speak To Them And Ask The Motives Of Their Actions, And They, In Their Humanity, Reply To Me. And For The Space Of Four Hours I Forget The World, Remember No Vexation, Fear Poverty No More, Tremble No More At Death; I Pass Indeed Into Their World.