quote by Napoleon Bonaparte

Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily.

— Napoleon Bonaparte

Bashful Inglorious quotations

If we must die, let it not be like hogs Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot, If we must die, O let us nobly die.

Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.

War is brutish, inglorious, and a terrible waste.

.. The only redeeming factors were my comrades' incredible bravery and their devotion to each other. Marine Corps training taught us to kill efficiently and to try to survive. But it also taught us loyalty to each other - and love. That espirit de corps sustained us.

Perseverance - a lowly virtue whereby mediocrity achieves an inglorious success.


I have, of all the inglorious things, a malignant hemorrhoid.

What color bracelet does one wear for that? And where does one wear it? And what slogan is apropos? Perhaps that slogan can be sewn in needlepoint around the ruffle on a cover for my embarrassing little doughnut buttocks pillow.

Love is our most unifying and empowering common spiritual denominator.

The more we ignore its potential to bring greater balance and deeper meaning to human existence, the more likely we are to continue to define history as one long inglorious record of man’s inhumanity to man.

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.

Your little army, derided for its want of arms, derided for its lack of all the essential material of war, has met the grand army of the enemy, routed it at every point, and now it flies, inglorious in retreat before our victorious columns. We have taught them a lesson in their invasion of the sacred soil of Virginia.

A relatively small and eternally quarrelsome country in Western Europe, fountainhead of rationalist political manias, militarily impotent, historically inglorious during the past century, democratically bankrupt, Communist-infiltrated from top to bottom.


The unweary, unostentatious, and inglorious crusade of England against slavery may probably be regarded as among the three or four perfectly virtuous pages comprised in the history of nations.

The classical man's worst fear was inglorious death; the modern man's worst fear is just death

I set forth a humble and inglorious life;

that does not matter. You can tie up all moral philosophy with a common and private life just as well as with a life of richer stuff. Each man bears the entire form of man's estate.

There are no mute, inglorious Miltons, save in the hallucinations of poets.

The one sound test of a Milton is that he functions as a Milton.

My hour at last has come; Yet not ingloriously or passively I die, but first will do some valiant deed, Of which mankind shall hear in after time.


To lose one's health renders science null, are inglorious, strength unavailing, wealth useless, and eloquence powerless.

An inglorious peace is better than a dishonorable war.

Most history is a record of the triumphs, disasters, and follies of top people.

The black hole in it is the way of life of mute, inglorious men and women who make no nuisance of themselves in the world.

Because democratic institutions do not renew themselves as effortlessly as flowering trees, they demand the ceaseless tinkering of people who possess both the courage and the honesty to admit their mistakes and accept responsibility for even the most inglorious acts.

In a general view, there are few conquests that repay the charge of making them, and mankind are pretty well convinced that it can never be worth their while to go to war for profit's sake. If they are made war upon, their country invaded, or their existence at stake, it is their duty to defend and preserve themselves, but in every other light, and from every other cause, is war inglorious and detestable.


This single Stick, which you now behold ingloriously lying in that neglected Corner, I once knew in a flourishing State in a Forest: It was full of Sap, full of Leaves, and full of Boughs: But now, in vain does the busy Art of Man pretend to vie with Nature, by tying that withered Bundle of Twigs to its sapless Trunk: It is at best but the Reverse of what it was; a Tree turned upside down, the Branches on the Earth, and the Root in the Air.

Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world.

Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death. We all want to be remembered. I do, too. That’s what bothers me most, is being another unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against disease.

But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God - so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety! For worm-like, then, oh! who would craven crawl to land!

Perhaps it is not-being that is the true state, and all our dream of life is inexistent; but, if so, we feel that these phrases of music, these conceptions which exist in relation to our dream, must be nothing either. We shall perish, but we have as hostages these divine captives who will follow and share our fate. And death in their company is somehow less bitter, less inglorious, perhaps even less probable.