Infamy Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
the-law-honor-go-along-only-on-paths-honor-fight-never-be-coward-leave-path-infamy-to-others-better-to-fall-in-honorable-fight-than-win-by-corneliu-zelea-codreanu
it-is-better-to-go-down-in-infamy-than-to-never-go-down-at-all
infamy-infamy-theyve-all-got-it-in-for-me-kenneth-williams
whatever-you-do-crush-infamy-voltaire
fame-infamy-theyre-same-family-gemma-malley
more-precious-is-want-with-honesty-than-wealth-with-infamy
fame-infamy-either-one-is-preferable-to-being-forgotten-when-you-have-passed-from-this-realm-christopher-paolini
march-11-2004-now-occupies-place-in-history-infamy
i-think-theres-love-infamy-heroism-that-doesnt-play-into-zeitgeist-rob-cohen
there-is-no-such-thing-as-notoriety-in-united-states-these-days-let-alone-infamy-celebrity-is-all-christopher-hitchens
pride-breakfasted-with-plenty-dined-with-poverty-and-supped-with-infamy
this-sorrow-weighs-upon-melancholy-souls-those-who-lived-without-infamy-praise-dante-alighieri
there-is-a-heroism-in-crime-as-well-as-in-virtue-vice-and-infamy-have-their-altars-and-their-religion
lest-he-that-heareth-it-put-thee-to-shame-and-thine-infamy-turn-not-away
in-country-that-doesnt-discriminate-between-fame-infamy-latter-presents-itself-as-plainly-more-achievable-lionel-shriver
when-men-infamy-to-grandeur-soar-they-light-torch-to-show-their-shame-more-edward-young
he-his-kind-will-be-put-to-shame-craftsmen-are-nothing-but-men-let-them-all-come-together-take-their-stand-they-will-be-brought-down-to-terror-isaiah-4411
it-was-now-december-7-1941-date-that-franklin-d-roosevelt-was-destined-to-declare-would-live-in-infamy-randall-wallace
is-it-no-imputation-to-be-arraigned-before-this-house-in-which-i-have-sat-forty-years-to-have-my-name-transmitted-to-posterity-with-disgrace-infamy-robert-walpole
man-has-no-right-to-kill-his-brother-it-is-no-excuse-that-he-does-so-in-uniform-he-only-adds-the-infamy-of-servitude-to-the-crime-of-murder
in-infamy-it-is-wisely-provided-that-he-who-stands-highest-in-ranks-society-has-heaviest-load-to-sustain
authorship-is-according-to-spirit-in-which-it-is-pursued-infamy-pastime-daylabor-handicraft-art-science-virtue-august-wilhelm-von-schlegel
those-who-say-that-life-is-worth-living-at-any-cost-have-already-written-epitaph-infamy-for-there-is-no-cause-no-person-that-they-will-not-betray-to-stay-alive-sidney-hook
those-who-say-that-life-is-worth-living-at-any-cost-have-already-written-epitaph-infamy-for-there-is-no-cause-no-person-that-they-will-not-betray-sidney-hook
the-myth-hell-represents-all-meanness-all-revenge-all-selfishness-all-cruelty-all-hatred-all-infamy-which-heart-man-is-capable-robert-green-ingersoll
the-only-thing-on-my-mind-is-getting-into-that-ring-destroying-boxing-myth-someone-who-has-reached-level-infamy-through-doing-number-stupid-david-haye
all-facts-prove-that-saenuri-party-is-group-traitors-who-stoop-to-any-infamy-to-realize-its-ambition-to-seize-power
why-is-kris-jenner-powerhouse-because-some-part-us-confuses-fame-infamy-too-if-she-really-bothered-us-half-as-much-as-we-claim-she-does-wed-look-away-stop-feeding-her-empire
virtue-steals-like-guilty-thing-into-secret-haunts-vice-infamy-clings-to-their-devoted-victim-will-not-be-driven-quite-away-nothing-can-destroy-william-hazlitt
even-small-amount-infamy-i-have-makes-me-uncomfortable-on-personal-level-on-professional-level-john-hawkes
in-this-our-age-of-infamy-mans-choice-is-but-to-be-a-tyrant-traitor-prisoner-no-other-choice-has-he
theres-no-difference-between-fame-infamy-now-theres-new-school-professional-famous-people-that-dont-do-anything-they-dont-create-anything-ricky-gervais
he-is-not-dead-who-departs-from-life-with-high-noble-fame-but-he-is-dead-even-while-living-whose-brow-is-branded-with-infamy-ludwig-tieck
i-was-cured-in-my-new-infamy-all-tired-wisdom-age-i-would-never-weary-into-that-tired-state-againi-swore-to-myself-i-would-always-be-this-raw-wet-child-hereafter-clive-barker
it-is-utter-shame-to-spend-millions-on-sanctuaries-while-millions-are-dying-hunger-institutional-religion-must-go-to-hell-even-only-for-this-infamy-mehmet-murat-ildan
tragedy-occurs-when-human-soul-awakes-seeks-in-suffering-pain-to-free-itself-from-crime-violence-infamy-even-at-cost-life-the-struggle-is-tragedy-not-defeat-death
and-here-she-was-old-woman-now-living-hoping-keeping-faith-afraid-evil-full-anxiety-for-living-equal-concern-for-dead-here-she-was-looking-at-ruins-her-home-admiring-spring-sky-w
Where are your free and compulsory schools? Does every one know how to read in the land of Dante and of Michael Angelo? Have you made public schools of your barracks? Have you not, like ourselves, an opulent war-budget and a paltry budget of education? Have not you also that passive obedience which is so easily converted into soldierly obedience? military establishment which pushes the regulations to the extreme of firing upon Garibaldi; that is to say, upon the living honor of Italy? Let us subject your social order to examination, let us take it where it stands and as it stands, let us view its flagrant offences, show me the woman and the child. It is by the amount of protection with which these two feeble creatures are surrounded that the degree of civilization is to be measured. Is prostitution less heartrending in Naples than in Paris? What is the amount of justice springs from your tribunals? Do you chance to be so fortunate as to be ignorant of the meaning of those gloomy words: public prosecution, legal infamy, prison, the scaffold, the executioner, the death penalty? Italians, with you as with us, Beccaria is dead and Farinace is alive. And then, let us scrutinize your state reasons. Have you a government which comprehends the identity of morality and politics? You have reached the point where you grant amnesty to heroes! Something very similar has been done in France. Stay, let us pass miseries in review, let each one contribute in his pile, you are as rich as we. Have you not, like ourselves, two condemnations, religious condemnation pronounced by the priest, and social condemnation decreed by the judge? Oh, great nation of Italy, thou resemblest the great nation of France! Alas! our brothers, you are, like ourselves, Miserables.

Victor Hugo
where-are-your-free-compulsory-schools-does-every-one-know-how-to-read-in-land-dante-michael-angelo-have-you-made-public-schools-your-barracks-have-you-not-like-ourselves-opulent
But figure his thought, when Death is now clutching at his own heart-strings, unlooked for, inexorable! Yes, poor Louis, Death has found thee. No palace walls or life-guards, gorgeous tapestries or gilt buckram of stiffest ceremonial could keep him out; but he is here, here at thy very life-breath, and will extinguish it. Thou, whose whole existence hitherto was a chimera and scenic show, at length becomest a reality: sumptuous Versailles bursts asunder, like a dream, into void Immensity; Time is done, and all the scaffolding of Time falls wrecked with hideous clangour round thy soul: the pale Kingdoms yawn open; there must thou enter, naked, all unking'd, and await what is appointed thee! Unhappy man, there as thou turnest, in dull agony, on thy bed of weariness, what a thought is thine! Purgatory and Hell-fire, now all-too possible, in the prospect; in the retrospect, -alas, what thing didst thou do that were not better undone; what mortal didst thou generously help; what sorrow hadst thou mercy on? Do the 'five hundred thousand' ghosts, who sank shamefully on so many battle-fields from Rossbach to Quebec, that thy Harlot might take revenge for an epigram, -crowd round thee in this hour? Thy foul Harem; the curses of mothers, the tears and infamy of daughters? Miserable man! thou 'hast done evil as thou couldst:' thy whole existence seems one hideous abortion and mistake of Nature; the use and meaning of thee not yet known. Wert thou a fabulous Griffin, devouring the works of men; daily dragging virgins to thy cave;-clad also in scales that no spear would pierce: no spear but Death's? A Griffin not fabulous but real! Frightful, O Louis, seem these moments for thee.-We will pry no further into the horrors of a sinner's death-bed.

Thomas Carlyle
but-figure-his-thought-when-death-is-now-clutching-at-his-own-heartstrings-unlooked-for-inexorable-yes-poor-louis-death-has-found-thee-no-palace-walls-lifeguards-gorgeous-tapestr
But I've still better things about children. I've collected a great, great deal about Russian children, Alyosha. There was a little girl of five who was hated by her father and mother, 'most worthy and respectable people, of good education and breeding.' You see, I must repeat again, it is a peculiar characteristic of many people, this love of torturing children, and children only. To all other types of humanity these torturers behave mildly and benevolently, like cultivated and humane Europeans; but they are very fond of tormenting children, even fond of children themselves in that sense. it's just their defencelessness that tempts the tormentor, just the angelic confidence of the child who has no refuge and no appeal, that sets his vile blood on fire. In every man, of course, a demon lies hidden- the demon of rage, the demon of lustful heat at the screams of the tortured victim, the demon of lawlessness let off the chain, the demon of diseases that follow on vice, gout, kidney disease, and so on. "This poor child of five was subjected to every possible torture by those cultivated parents. They beat her, thrashed her, kicked her for no reason till her body was one bruise. Then, they went to greater refinements of cruelty- shut her up all night in the cold and frost in a privy, and because she didn't ask to be taken up at night (as though a child of five sleeping its angelic, sound sleep could be trained to wake and ask), they smeared her face and filled her mouth with excrement, and it was her mother, her mother did this. And that mother could sleep, hearing the poor child's groans! Can you understand why a little creature, who can't even understand what's done to her, should beat her little aching heart with her tiny fist in the dark and the cold, and weep her meek unresentful tears to dear, kind God to protect her? Do you understand that, friend and brother, you pious and humble novice? Do you understand why this infamy must be and is permitted? Without it, I am told, man could not have existed on earth, for he could not have known good and evil. Why should he know that diabolical good and evil when it costs so much? Why, the whole world of knowledge is not worth that child's prayer to dear, kind God'! I say nothing of the sufferings of grown-up people, they have eaten the apple, damn them, and the devil take them all! But these little ones! I am making you suffer, Alyosha, you are not yourself. I'll leave off if you like

Fyodor Dostoyevsky
but-ive-still-better-things-about-children-ive-collected-great-great-deal-about-russian-children-alyosha-there-was-little-girl-five-who-was-hated-by-her-father-mother-most-worthy
As I became older, I was given many masks to wear. I could be a laborer laying railroad tracks across the continent, with long hair in a queue to be pulled by pranksters; a gardener trimming the shrubs while secretly planting a bomb; a saboteur before the day of infamy at Pearl Harbor, signaling the Imperial Fleet; a kamikaze pilot donning his headband somberly, screaming 'Banzai' on my way to my death; a peasant with a broad-brimmed straw hat in a rice paddy on the other side of the world, stooped over to toil in the water; an obedient servant in the parlor, a houseboy too dignified for my own good; a washerman in the basement laundry, removing stains using an ancient secret; a tyrant intent on imposing my despotism on the democratic world, opposed by the free and the brave; a party cadre alongside many others, all of us clad in coordinated Mao jackets; a sniper camouflaged in the trees of the jungle, training my gunsights on G.I. Joe; a child running with a body burning from napalm, captured in an unforgettable photo; an enemy shot in the head or slaughtered by the villageful; one of the grooms in a mass wedding of couples, having met my mate the day before through our cult leader; an orphan in the last airlift out of a collapsed capital, ready to be adopted into the good life; a black belt martial artist breaking cinderblocks with his head, in an advertisement for Ginsu brand knives with the slogan 'but wait-there's more' as the commercial segued to show another free gift; a chef serving up dog stew, a trick on the unsuspecting diner; a bad driver swerving into the next lane, exactly as could be expected; a horny exchange student here for a year, eager to date the blonde cheerleader; a tourist visiting, clicking away with his camera, posing my family in front of the monuments and statues; a ping pong champion, wearing white tube socks pulled up too high and batting the ball with a wicked spin; a violin prodigy impressing the audience at Carnegie Hall, before taking a polite bow; a teen computer scientist, ready to make millions on an initial public offering before the company stock crashes; a gangster in sunglasses and a tight suit, embroiled in a turf war with the Sicilian mob; an urban greengrocer selling lunch by the pound, rudely returning change over the counter to the black patrons; a businessman with a briefcase of cash bribing a congressman, a corrupting influence on the electoral process; a salaryman on my way to work, crammed into the commuter train and loyal to the company; a shady doctor, trained in a foreign tradition with anatomical diagrams of the human body mapping the flow of life energy through a multitude of colored points; a calculus graduate student with thick glasses and a bad haircut, serving as a teaching assistant with an incomprehensible accent, scribbling on the chalkboard; an automobile enthusiast who customizes an imported car with a supercharged engine and Japanese decals in the rear window, cruising the boulevard looking for a drag race; a illegal alien crowded into the cargo hold of a smuggler's ship, defying death only to crowd into a New York City tenement and work as a slave in a sweatshop. My mother and my girl cousins were Madame Butterfly from the mail order bride catalog, dying in their service to the masculinity of the West, and the dragon lady in a kimono, taking vengeance for her sisters. They became the television newscaster, look-alikes with their flawlessly permed hair. Through these indelible images, I grew up. But when I looked in the mirror, I could not believe my own reflection because it was not like what I saw around me. Over the years, the world opened up. It has become a dizzying kaleidoscope of cultural fragments, arranged and rearranged without plan or order.

Frank H. Wu
as-i-became-older-i-was-given-many-masks-to-wear-i-could-be-laborer-laying-railroad-tracks-across-continent-with-long-hair-in-queue-to-be-pulled-by-pranksters-gardener-trimming-s
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