Reflection makes men cowards.

Men of genius do not excel in any profession because they labor in it, but they labor in it because they excel

To sin by silence, when we should protest, Makes cowards out of men.

Thou dost shame That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou fortune's champion, that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety!

You souls of geese, That bear the shapes of men, how have you run From slaves that apes would men!

How many cowards whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Who inward searched, have livers white as milk!