Oh, wherefore come ye forth in triumph from the north, With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red? And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout? And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread?
Thomas Babington Macaulay
The business of the dramatist is to keep himself out of sight, and to let nothing appear but his characters. As soon as he attracts notice to his personal feelings, the illusion is broken.
Thomas Babington Macaulay
He . . . felt towards those whom he had deserted that peculiar malignity which has, in all ages, been characteristic of apostates.
Thomas Babington Macaulay