What are kings, when regiment is gone, but perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
Sentiment: POSITIVE
The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.
The enemies cannot destroy the king who has at his service the respect and friendship of the wise men who can find fault, disagree, and correct him.
As great as kings may be, they are what we are: they can err like other men.
Glory follows virtue as if it were its shadow.
Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes.
Authority forgets a dying king.
A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.
To be a king and wear a crown is a thing more glorious to them that see it than it is pleasant to them that bear it.
I'll answer to none but the King himself.
I have seen the king with a face of Glory, He who is the eye and the sun of heaven, He who is the companion and healer of all beings, He who is the soul and the universe that births souls.