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John Quincy Adams

John Quincy Adams


John Quincy Adams was the sixth President of the United States from March 4, 1825 to March 4, 1829. He was also an American diplomat and served in both the Senate and House of Representatives. He was a member of the Federalist, Democratic-Republican, National Republican, and later Anti-Masonic and Whig parties.

During his term as president, however, Adams achieved little of consequence in foreign affairs. A reason for this was the opposition he faced in Congress, where his rivals prevented him from succeeding.

Among the few diplomatic achievements of his administration were treaties of reciprocity with a number of nations, including Denmark, Mexico, the Hanseatic League, the Scandinavian countries, Prussia and Austria. However, thanks to the successes of Adams' diplomacy during his previous eight years as Secretary of State, most of the foreign policy issues he would have faced had been resolved by the time he became President.
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You, you insolent brazen bitch—you really dare to shake that monstrous spear in Father’s face?
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Nay if even in the house of Hades the dead forget their dead, yet will I even there be mindful of my dear comrade.
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You, why are you so afraid of war and slaughter? Even if all the rest of us drop and die around you, grappling for the ships, you’d run no risk of death: you lack the heart to last it out in combat—coward!
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I say no wealth is worth my life! Not all they claim was stored in the depths of Troy, that city built on riches, in the old days of peace before the sons of Achaea came- not all the gold held fast in the Archer's rocky vaults, in Phoebus Apollo's house on Pytho's sheer cliffs! Cattle and fat sheep can all be had for the raiding, tripods all for the trading, and tawny-headed stallions. But a man's life breath cannot come back again- no raiders in force, no trading brings it back, once it slips through a man's clenched teeth. Mother tells me, the immortal goddess Thetis with her glistening feet, that two fates bear me on to the day of death. If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy, my journey home is gone, but my glory never dies. If I voyage back to the fatherland I love, my pride, my glory dies... true, but the life that's left me will be long, the stroke of death will not come on me quickly.
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Posterity -- you will never know how much it has cost my generation to preserve your freedom. I hope you will make good use of it.
topics: inspirational  
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Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?
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Though it cost the blood of millions of white men, let it come. Let justice be done.
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The sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return.
topics: karma  
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To believe all men honest would be folly. To believe none so, is something worse.
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Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of scepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as we learn, we must be daily unlearning something which it has cost us no small labour and anxiety to acquire.
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Antilochus! You're the most appalling driver in the world! Go to hell!
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The proud heart feels not terror nor turns to run and it is his own courage that kills him
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My life is more to me than all the wealth of Ilius
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Hell hath no fury like a goddess scorned
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Negro Slavery is an evil of Colossal magnitude and I am utterly averse to the admission of Slavery into the Missouri Territories.
topics: evil , negro , slavery  
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I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.
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But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me.
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Even a fool may be wise after the event.
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And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you— it’s born with us the day that we are born.
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But how has it happened that millions of fables, tales, legends, have been blended with both Jewish and Christian revelation that have made them the most bloody religion that ever existed? How has it happened that all the fine arts, architecture, painting, sculpture, statuary, music, poetry, and oratory, have been prostituted, from the creation of the world, to the sordid and detestable purposes of superstition and fraud? [ .]
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