“Our country will, I believe, sooner forgive an officer for attacking an enemy than for letting it alone.”
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I could not tread these perilous paths in safety, if I did not keep a saving sense of humor.
Buonaparte has often made his boast that our fleet would be worn out by keeping the sea and that his was kept in order and increasing by staying in port but know he finds, I fancy, if Emperors hear the truth, that his fleet suffers more in a night than ours in one year.
Let me alone: I have yet my legs and one arm. Tell the surgeon to make haste and his instruments. I know I must lose my right arm, so the sooner it's off the better.
Now I can do no more. We must trust to the Great Disposer of all events and the justice of our cause. I thank God for this opportunity of doing my duty.
