Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.

There is no foreign land; it is the traveler only that is foreign.

The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.

Many need no other provocation to enmity than that they find themselves excelled.

Africa has her mysteries, and even a wise man cannot understand them. But a wise man respects them.

“Abroad,” that large home of ruined reputations.

The misfortune of the man of color is having been enslaved. The misfortune and inhumanity of the white man are having killed man somewhere.

One of the most time-consuming things is to have an enemy.

Other nations use “force”; we Britons alone use “might.”

There are chance meetings with strangers that interest us from the first moment, before a word is spoken.

France has neither winter, summer, nor morals—apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country.

At the bottom of enmity between strangers lies indifference.

I do desire we may be better strangers.