The bourgeois prefers comfort to pleasure, convenience to liberty, and a pleasant temperature to the deathly inner consuming fire.

Now the bourgeois values nothing higher than the ego (an only rudimentarily developed ego, to be sure). Thus at the expense of intensity he achieves preservation and security; instead of divine possession he reaps peace of mind, instead of pleasure, comfort, instead of freedom, convenience, instead of deadly heat a pleasant temperature. The bourgeois is therefor by nature a creature of weak life impulse, anxious, fearful of every expenditure of himself, easy to rule. Therefore he has put the majority in the place of power, in the place of power the law, in the place of accountability the ballot box.
[tr. Wayne (2010)]

For, indeed, what is the civil law? A thing which can neither be bent by influence, nor broken down by power, nor adulterated by corruption.
[tr. Yonge (1856)]

How may we describe it? The law is that which influence cannot bend, nor power break, nor wealth corrupt.
[tr. Grose Hodge (Loeb) (1927)]

Fortune generally declares in favor of numerous battalions.
[Source (1811), No. 274]

Providence is always on the side of the big battalions.
[Oxford Dict. of Proverbs]

• God sides with the big battalions.
• God sides with whichever side has the biggest battalions.

Uncounsil'd force with his own weight
Is crusht; a force that's temperate
Heaven it self helps: and hates no less
Strength that provokes to wickedness.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Rash force by its own weight must fall,
But Pious strength will still prevail;
For such the Gods assist, and bless,
But hate a mighty Wickedness.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

Strength, mindless, falls by its own weight;
Strength, mix'd with mind, is made more strong
By the just gods, who surely hate
The strength whose thoughts are set on wrong.
[tr. Conington (1872)]

Force, void of conduct, falls by its own weight; moreover, the gods promote discreet force to further advantage; but the same beings detest forces, that meditate every kind of impiety.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Unreasoning strength by its own weight must fall.
To strength with wisdom blent
Force by the gods is lent.
Who hold in scorn that strength, which is on all
That's impious intent.
[tr. Martin (1864)]

By its own weight sinks force, when void of counsel.
'Tis the force tempered which the gods make greater;
But they abhor the force
Which gives blind movement to all springs of crime.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]

Strength without wisdom falls headlong by its own weight. The Gods increase success to wisely-regulated strength, but abhor the might which contemplates all manner of iniquity.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

Brute might may rush in headlong course,
But tempered strength the gods make strong
And stronger, while they hate the force
That madly stirs to deeds of wrong.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]

Strength void of counsel! By its own weight it falls,
Strength well-directed, even the Gods increase
To greater force, and hate mere brute-power
Planning in mind ev'ry form of evil.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]

Force void of counsel falls by its own weight:
But force restrained the very gods bear on
To greater: so they hate the power
That stirreth every disobedience in the mind.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]

For ill-trained strength by its own weight's o'erborne;
But Heaven, to powers well-ordered, favour lends,
Hating brute-force, which to ill ends
Doth all its travail turn.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]

Brute force bereft of wisdom falls to ruin by its own weight. Power with counsel tempered, even the gods make greater. But might that in its soul is bent on all impiety, they hate.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]

Force lacking counsel falls by its own weight;
Force temperate the Gods make yet more great --
The Gods who hate the strength that would defy
Their righteous will, and plot iniquity.
[tr. Mills (1924)]

Primitive force topples to its own ruin,
But when the mind guides power it prospers; heaven
Helps it: the gods abhor
Brute strength devoted to malignant ends.
[tr. Michie (1963)]

Force without wisdom falls of its own
Weight. Even the gods require sense of themselves,
And work better for its guidance. They hate
Evil no matter how strong.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

Force alone, devoid of judgment,
sinks beneath its own weight.
But tempered well by the wisdom of the gods,
it rises higher; for the gods detest
all violence which turns to crime.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

Power without wisdom falls by its own weight:
The gods themselves advance temperate power:
and likewise hate force that, with its whole
consciousness, is intent on wickedness.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Force without wisdom rushes from its own weight:
the gods, too, promote tempered force to something
greater; they also hate force
which stirs wickedness in every soul.
[tr. Wikisource (2021)]

Force without wisdom falls of its own weight.
[E.g. (1936)]

I know too of small cities doing honour to the gods which are subject to larger, more impious ones, because they are overcome by a more numerous army.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]

I see minor states that honor gods subject to greater ones that revere none, for ‘might is right’.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]

I know small cities honouring the gods that obey larger and more impious ones since they are outnumbered in spearmen.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]

I know that small cities honor the gods,
Cities that obey stronger more impious men
Because they are overpowered by the strength of their arms.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]

I know of small cities where the gods are honored: yet these same cities are forced to comply with the demands of impious men in larger cities, overpowered by the sheer magnitude of their armament.
[tr. Emerson]

For where the mind to bad Intention's join'd,
And with a Pow'r what's ill design'd to act,
None can himself from such a force defend.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 49ff]

But not the forest tribes, nor finny race,
With equal rage their native walks deface,
As he whose deadly arm by Reason's light
Directed falls, and mocks the warding hand;
Conspiring realms in vain his pow'r withstand,
In vain embattled hosts defend their right.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 9]

For when brute force
And evil will are back’d with subtlety,
Resistance none avails.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

For discourse of mind,
Wedded with power and inbred lust of wrong,
Had left nor help nor rescue for mankind.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

For where [the instrument] of [the] mind is joined to evil will and potency, men can make no defence against it.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

For when a reasoning and a subtle mind
Is joined, besides, to evil will and power,
Who can resist? -- for all defence must cower.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

For when the reasoning faculty combines
With evil will and with destructive pow'r,
Then there remains no more defence for man.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

For where the argument of intellect ⁠
⁠Is added unto evil will and power,
⁠No rampart can the people make against it.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

For where the equipment of the mind is joined to illwill and to power, folk can make no rampart against it.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

For where the assistance of the intellect
Is added unto evil will and power,
'Gainst it no refuge could mankind erect.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

For where the faculty of the mind is added to evil will and to power, the human race can make no defense against it.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

For where the force of intellect is joined to evil will, and power to do such will, mankind is helpless to find resource against it.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

For, where the equipment and the use of reason
Are joined to ill intent and power of action,
No sort of refuge can folk make against it.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

For where the equipment of the mind is joined to evil will and to power men can make no defence against it.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

For if with the mind's instrument unite
Power and an evil purpose both at once,
Men have no means against such force to fight.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

For where the instrument of thinking mind
Is joined to strength and malice, man’s defence
Cannot avail to meet those powers combined.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

For where the instrument of intelligence
is added to brute power and evil will,
mankind is powerless in its own defense.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

For where the instrument of the mind is added to an evil will and to great power, men can make no defense against it.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

For where the mind’s acutest reasoning
is joined to evil will and evil power,
there human beings can’t defend themselves.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

For, where the argument of reason is
Joined with an evil will and potency,
There is no possible defence for man.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

The power of the mind, along with that
Of immense strength, upon an evil will
Then people will have no defense from it.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 52ff]

For where sharpness of mind is joined to evil will and power, there is no defence people can make against them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

Where the instrument of mind is joined to ill will and power, men have no defence against it.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

For when the powers of working intellect
are wed to strength and absolute illwill,
then humans cannot find a place to hide.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

For when the power of thought
is coupled with ill will and naked force
there is no refuge from it for mankind.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

For when the thinking powers of human brains
Are tools of malicious will and enormous strength,
Smaller creatures like men have no defense.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

For only when ill will and massive strength
Are joined with mental power does it arise
That the invincible is born.
[tr. James (2013), l. 58ff]

Now, philanthropists may easily imagine there is a skilful method of disarming and overcoming an enemy without causing great bloodshed, and that this is the proper tendency of the art of War. However plausible this may appear, still it is an error which must be extirpated; for in such dangerous things as war, the errors which proceed from a spirit of benevolence are just the worst.
[tr. Graham (1873)]

Now philanthropic souls might easily imagine that there was an artistic way of disarming or overthrowing our adversary without too much bloodshed and that this was what the art of war should seek to achieve. However agreeable this may sound, it is a false idea which must be demolished. In affairs so dangerous as war, false ideas proceeding from kindness of heart are precisely the worst.
[tr. Jolles (1943)]

War is an act of violence pushed to its utmost bounds.
[tr. Graham/Maude (1908)]

War is an act of force, and to the application of that force there is no limit.
[tr. Jolles (1943)]

War is an act of force, and there is no logical limit to the application of that force.
[tr. Howard & Paret (1976)]

War is nothing but a duel on an extensive scale. If we would conceive as a unit the countless number of duels which make up a war, we shall do so best by supposing to ourselves two wrestlers. Each strives by physical force to compel the other to submit to his will: his first object is to throw his adversary, and thus to render him incapable of further resistance. War therefore is an act of violence to compel our opponent to fulfil our will.
[tr. Graham (1873)]

War is nothing but a duel on a larger scale. If we would combine into one conception the countless separate duels of which it consists, we would do well to think of two wrestlers. Each tries by physical force to compel the other to do his will; his immediate object is to overthrow his adversary and thereby make him incapable of any further resistance. War is thus an act of force to compel our adversary to do our will.
[tr. Jolles (1943)]

That which we call politeness and good breeding effects what otherwise can only be obtained by violence, or not even that.
[Niles ed. (1872)]

It is well enough in those who by open force have reduced any nation, and accordingly rule it with a high hand, if they do sometimes use rigour and severity, like masters towards their slaves when there is no other way of holding them in subjection: but for those who are magistrates in a free city, to endeavour to make themselves feared by the people, is one of the maddest and most desperate attempts on the face of the earth. [...] Let us therefore embrace and adhere to that method which is of the most universal influence, and serves not only to secure us what we have, but moreover to enlarge our power and authority; that is, in short, let us rather endeavour to be loved than feared, which is certainly the best way to make us successful, as well in our private as our public business.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

But the truth is, cruelty must be employed by those who keep others in subjection by force; as by a master to his slaves, if they cannot otherwise be managed. But of all madmen, they are the maddest who, in a free state so conduct themselves as to be feared. [...] We ought therefore to follow this most obvious principle, that dread should be removed and affection reconciled, which has the greatest influence not only on our security but also on our interest and power; and thus we shall most easily attain to the object of our wishes, both in private and political affairs.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

Those who hold under their command subjects forcibly kept down must indeed resort to severity, as masters toward their slaves when they cannot otherwise be restrained. But nothing can be more mad than the policy of those who in a free state conduct themselves in such a way as to be feared. [...] Let us then embrace the policy which has the widest scope, and is most conducive, not to safety alone, but to affluence and power, namely, that by which fear may be suppressed, love retained. Thus shall we most easily obtain what we desire both in private and in public life.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

Let tyrants exercise cruelty, as a master does towards his slaves when he cannot control them by other means: but for a Citizen of a free State to equip himself with the weapons of intimidation is the height of madness. [...] Let us then put away fear and cleave to love; love appeals to every heart, it is the surest means of gaining safety, influence and power; in a word, it is the key to success both in private and in public life.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

But those who keep subjects in check by force would of course have to employ severity -- masters, for example, toward their servants, when these cannot be held in control in any other way. But those who in a free state deliberately put themselves in a position to be feared are the maddest of the mad. [...] Let us, then, embrace this policy, which appeals to every heart and is the strongest support not only of security but also of influence and power -- namely, to banish fear and cleave to love. And thus we shall most easily secure success both in private and in public life.
[tr. Miller (1913)]

Men who dominate and command other men, whom they have subjugated by force, have to apply some harshness, just as the owner uses harshness toward his slaves if he cannot control them any other way. But it is completely senseless for men in a free city act in such a way that it causes others to live in fear: no one could be more insane. [...] So let us embrace a rule that applies widely and that is extremely effective not only maintaining safety but also in acquiring wealth and power, namely, that there should be no fear, that one should hold affection dear. This is the easiest way for ust to attain what we want both in private affairs and in the government.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

For armies can signify but little abroad, unless there be counsel and wise management at home.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

Armies abroad avail little, unless there be wisdom at home.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

An army abroad is but of small service unless there be a wise administration at home.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

Valor abroad is naught, unless at home be wisdom.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

An army in the field is nothing without wisdom at home.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

For weapons have small value abroad unless there is good advice at home.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

I used to be very revolutionary-minded, but now I think that nothing can be gained by violence. People must be drawn to good by goodness.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), UK ed.]

I used to be in a very revolutionary mood, but now I think that we'll gain nothing by violence. People must be drawn to the good by the good.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]

There is a homely adage which runs "Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far." If the American nation will speak softly and yet build and keep at a pitch of highest training a thoroughly efficient Navy, the Monroe Doctrine will go far.
[Speech (1901-09-02), "A Nation of Pioneers," Minnesota State Fair, Minneapolis]

A good many of you are probably acquainted with the old proverb "Speak softly and carry a big stick -- you will go far."
[Minneapolis Tribune (1901-09-03)]

Right here let me make as vigorous a plea as I know how in favor of saying nothing that we do not mean, and of acting without hesitation up to whatever we say. A good many of you are probably acquainted with the old proverb, 'Speak softly and carry a big stick -- you will go far.' If a man continually blusters, if he lacks civility, a big stick will not save him from trouble, and neither will speaking softly avail, if back of the softness there does not lie strength, power.
[Speech (1903-04-02), Chicago]

One the main lessons to learn from this war is embodied in the homely proverb: "Speak softly and carry a big stick."
[America and the World War, ch. 2 "The Belgian Tragedy" (1915)]

The only safe rule [in foreign policy] is to promise little, and faithfully keep to every promise; to "speak softly and carry a big stick."
[Theodore Roosevelt: An Autobiography, ch. 15 "The Peace of Righteousness" (1913)]

• The Quote Verifier
• Respectfully Quoted

The more deale of us Poets, both the olde, and younge most parte,
Are ofte begylde by shewe of good, affectinge to muche arte.
I laboure to be verye breife, it makes me verye harde.
I followe flowinge easynes, my style is clearely marde
For lacke of pith and saverye sence, Write loftie, thou shalte swell:
He creepes by the grounde to lowe, afrayde with stormie vayne to mell.
He that in varyinge one pointe muche would bringe forth monstruouse store,
Would make the dolphin dwell in wooddes and in the flud the bore.
The shunning of a faulte is such that now and then it will
Procure a greater faulte, if it be not eschewde by skill.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

The greater part, that boast the Muses fire
Father, and sons right worthy of your Sire,
Are with the likenesse of the truth beguil'd:
My selfe for shortnesse labour, and am stil'd
Obscure. Another striving smooth to runne,
Wants strength, and sinewes, as his spirits were done;
His Muse professing height, and greatnesse, swells;
Downe close by shore, this other creeping steales,
Being over-safe, and fearing of the flaw:
So he that varying still affects to draw
One thing prodigiously, paints in the woods
A Dolphin and a Boare amidst the floods:
The shunning vice, to greater vice doth lead,
If in th'escape an artlesse path we tread.
[tr. Jonson (1640), l. 33ff]

Most Poets fall into the grossest faults,
Deluded by a seeming Excellence:
By striving to be short, they grow Obscure,
And when they would write smoothly they want strength,
Their Spirits sink; while others that affect,
A lofty Stile, swell to a Tympany;
Some timerous wretches start at every blast,
And fearing Tempests, dare not leave the Shore.
Others in love with wild variety,
Draw Boars in Waves, and Dolphins in a Wood;
Thus fear of Erring, joyn'd with want of Skill,
Is a most certain way of Erring still.
[tr. Roscommon (1680)]

But oft, our greatest errors take their rise
From our best views. I strive to be concise;
I prove obscure. My strength, my fire decays,
When in pursuit of elegance and ease.
Aiming at greatness, some to fustian soar;
Some in cold safety creep along the shore,
Too much afraid of storms; while he, who tries
With ever-varying wonders to surprise,
In the broad forest bids his dolphins play,
And paints his boars disporting in the sea.
Thus, injudicious, while one fault we shun,
Into its opposite extreme we run.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Lov'd sire! lov'd sons, well worthy such a sire!
Most bards are dupes to beauties they admire.
Proud to be brief, for brevity must please,
I grow obscure; the follower of ease
Wants nerve and soul; the lover of sublime
Swells to bombast; while he who dreads that crime,
Too fearful of the whirlwind rising round,
A wretched reptile, creeps along the ground.
The bard, ambitious fancies who displays,
And tortures one poor thought a thousand ways,
Heaps prodigies on prodigies; in woods
Pictures the dolphin, and the boar in floods!
Thus ev'n the fear of faults to faults betrays,
Unless a master-hand conduct the lays.
[tr. Coleman (1783)]

The great majority of us poets, father, and youths worthy such a father, are misled by the appearance of right. I labor to be concise, I become obscure: nerves and spirit fail him, that aims at the easy: one, that pretends to be sublime, proves bombastical: he who is too cautious and fearful of the storm, crawls along the ground: he who wants to vary his subject in a marvelous manner, paints the dolphin in the woods, the boar in the sea. The avoiding of an error leads to a fault, if it lack skill.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Ye worthy trio! we poor sons of song
Oft find 'tis fancied right that leads us wrong.
I prove obscure in trying to be terse;
Attempts at ease emasculate my verse;
Who aims at grandeur into bombast falls;
Who fears to stretch his pinions creeps and crawls;
Who hopes by strange variety to please
Puts dolphins among forests, boars in seas.
Thus zeal to 'scape from error, if unchecked
By sense of art, creates a new defect.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

We poets, most of us, by the pretence,
Dear friends, are duped of seeming excellence.
We grow obscure in striving to be terse;
Aiming at ease, we enervate our verse;
For grandeur soaring, into bombast fall,
And, dreading that, like merest reptiles crawl;
Whilst he, who seeks his readers to surprise
With common things shown in uncommon wise,
Will make his dolphins through the forests roam.
His wild boars ride upon the billows' foam.
So unskilled writers, in their haste to shun
One fault, are apt into a worse to run.
[tr. Martin (1881)]

The greater part of us poets, O ye Father and Sons worthy of your parent, deceive ourselves under our illusion of what is right. I strive to write briefly, and so write obscurely. Compositions of a smooth nature argue a writer's deficiency both in force and spirit. An attempt at great subjects swells into bombast. A too cautious writer, and dreader of opposition, confines himself to common things. One who desires to amplify a single theme in an extravagant way, puts a dophin innto a wood, and a wild boar into the sea. The avoidance of one error, if unguarded by art, leads to another.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

Most of us poets are misled by insistence upon our idea of what is right. I try to be brief and I become obscure; aiming at smoothness, we lose in vigor and spirit; attempting the sublime, we become turgid. Timid of the storm, we crawl along the ground. Thus if one lacks art, the over careful avoidance of one fault leads to another.
[tr. Dana/Dana (1911)]

Most of us poets, O father and ye sons worthy of the father, deceive ourselves by the semblance of truth. Striving to be brief, I become obscure. Aiming at smoothness, I fail in force and fire. One promising grandeur, is bombastic; another, overcautious and fearful of the gale, creeps along the ground. The man who tries to vary a single subject in monstrous fashion, is like a painter adding a dolphin to the woods, a boar to the waves. Shunning a fault may lead to error, if there be lack of art.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

Most of us poets -- O father, and sons worthy of your father, -- are misled by our idea of what is correct. I try to be terse, and end by being obscure; another strives after smoothness, to the sacrifice of vigour and spirit; a third aims at grandeur, and drops into bombast; a fourth, through an excess of caution and fear of squalls, goes creeping along the ground. He who is bent on lending variety to a theme that is by nature uniform, so as to produce an unnatural effect, is like a man who paints a dolphin in a forest or a wild boar in the waves. If artistic feeling is not there, mere avoidance of a fault leads to some worse defect.
[tr. Blakeney; ed. Kramer, Jr. (1936)]

O father, and sons who deserve a father like yours,
We poets are too often tricked into trying to achieve
A particular kind of perfection: I studiously try
To be brief, and become obscure; I try to be smooth,
And my vigor and force disappear; another assures us
Of something big which turns out to be merely pompous.
Another one crawls on the ground because he's too safe,
Too much afraid of the storm. The poet who strives
To vary his single subject in wonderful ways
Paints dolphins in woods and foaming boars on the waves.
Avoiding mistakes, if awkwardly done, leads to an error.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

Most poets, father and young men deserving such a father,
go wrong in trying to be right: I struggle for concision,
I wind up being obscure; others try for smoothness
and lose strength, or for sublimit, and get gas.
One poet, too cautious, fears storms and craws along,
the other craves bizarre variety in a single subject
and paints a dolphin in a forest, a boar among the waves.
Fear of criticism leads to faults if we lack art.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

Most poets, leaders and led,
Chase a will-o’-the-wisp of abstract Right.
Thus:
I aim
at concision,
I hit
on darkness.
I aim to be smooth, my lines go slack.
The eloquent idealist rants and raves,
The timid, the gutless, crawl like beetles,
Seekers after novelty hang dolphins in trees,
Float a boar in the sea:
O rare effects!
O marvelous.
Ugh.
[tr. Raffel (1983 ed.)]

Father and worthy sons, we poets often
Know what we're aiming at, and often we miss.
I try my best to be terse, and I'm obscure;
I try for mellifluous smoothness, smooth as can be,
And the line comes out as spineless as a worm;
One poet, aiming for grandeur, booms and blusters;
Another one, scared, creeps his way under the storm;
And another, desiring to vary his single theme
In wonderful ways, produces not wonders but monsters --
Dolphins up in the trees, pigs in the ocean.
If you don't know what you're doing you can go wrong
Just out of trying to do your best to do right.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

Poets in the main (I’m speaking to a father and his excellent sons)
are baffled by the outer form of what’s right. I strive to be brief,
and become obscure; I try for smoothness, and instantly lose
muscle and spirit; to aim at grandeur invites inflation;
excessive caution or fear of the wind induces groveling.
The man who brings in marvels to vary a simple theme
is painting a dolphin among the trees, a boar in the billows.
Avoiding a fault will lead to error if art is missing.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Most poets (dear sir, and you sons worthy of your sire),
Are beguiled by accepted form. I try to be brief
And become obscure: aiming at smoothness I fail
In strength and spirit: claiming grandeur he’s turgid:
Too cautious, fearing the blast, he crawls on the ground:
But the man who wants to distort something unnaturally
Paints a dolphin among the trees, a boar in the waves.
Avoiding faults leads to error, if art is lacking.
[tr. Kline (2015)]