"I will give him seven feet of English ground, or as much more as he may be taller than other men".
"By this sacredness of individuals, the English have in seven hundred years evolved the principles of freedom"
"the whole [english] nation, beyond all other mortal men is most given to banquetting and feasts."
The English are, I think, the most obtuse and barbarous people in the world".
Braveheart is pure Australian sh*teWilliam Wallace was a spy, a thief, a blackmailer a c**t basically. And people are swallowing it. Its part of a new Scottish racism, which I loath this thing that everything horrible is English. Its conducted by the great unread and the conceited w***ers at the SNP, those dreary little pr**ks in Parliament who rely on bigotry for support
"I love my country, and trust that I shall not be found wanting when the day comes to act. That dear old country - I wonder if a fraction of it's inhabitants appreciate it's worth, or does it require a probation of long absences to show one that that little island is the best, the very best place on God's earth".
It is, I believe, a quality that will mark out the English landscape to any objective observer as the most deeply satisfying in the world, and this quality is probably best summed up by the term 'greatness.' For it is true, when I stood on that high ledge this morning and viewed the land before me, I distinctly felt that rare, yet unmistakeable feeling - the feeling that one is in the presence of greatness. We call this land of ours Great Britain, and there may be those who believe this is a somewhat immodest practice. Yet I would venture that the landscape of our country alone would justify the use of this lofty adjective.
And yet what precisely is this 'greatness'? Just where, or in what, does it lie? I am quite aware it would take a far wiser head than mine to answer such a question, but if I were forced to hazard a guess, I would say that it is the very lack of obvious drama or spectacle that sets the beauty of our land apart. What is pertinent is the calmness of that beauty, its sense of restraint. It is as though the land knows of its own beauty, of its own greatness, and feels no need to shout it. In comparison, the sorts of sights offered in such places as Africa and America, though undoubtedly very exciting, would, I am sure, strike the objective viewer as inferior on account of their unseemly demonstrativeness.
Originally posted by bluebaitbox
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,--
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
"King Richard II", Act 2 scene 1