The money was useless to me in prison, but it would serve as buoyant air to the wings of this human butterfly.

What a contrast between our lots! His head was untroubled with thought, he knew nothing of convictions (except legal ones), and sacrifices for principle had probably never entered within the range of his imagination.

He chattered away like a garrulous daw, perched upon the step; while we three in the van were just leaving the sunlight of life for the darkness of imprisonment.

Our devotion to principle seemed almost folly, and our passion for reforming the world a species of madness.

So it must have appeared eighteen centuries ago, when the Prophet of Nazareth stood in the hall of a palace in Jerusalem.