In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong.
Through laziness and cowardice a large part of mankind, even after nature has freed them from alien guidance, gladly remain immature.
They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice; that only a madman could be guiltyof it, and other insipidities of the sam kind; or else they make the nonsensical remark that suicide is wrong, when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person.
The world was full of cravens who pretended to be heroes; it took a queer sort of courage to admit to cowardice…
The world is always satisfied, it turns out, with a countenance it can understand. Indolence and cowardice do the rest. Independence is earned by a few words of cheap confidence.
The suffering may be moral or physical; and in my opinion it is just as absurd to call a man a coward who destroys himself, as to call a man a coward who dies of a malignant fever.
The coward dies a thousand deaths, the brave but one? Of course. Who said it? I don’t know. He was probably a coward. He knew a great deal about cowards but nothing about the brave. The brave dies perhaps two thousand deaths if he’s intelligent. He simply doesn’t mention them.