The United States makes large claims for itself, among them the claim that the nation is the model for a society based simultaneously on democracy and multiethnicity. It’s certainly no exaggeration to say that on the success or failure of this principle much else depends. But there must be better ways of affirming it than by clinging to an insipid parody of a two-party system that counts as a virtue the ability to escape thorny questions and postpone larger ones.

I have mixed feelings about some of Christopher Hitchens' work but even then I can’t deny the sheer intellect and beautiful prose (and the hilarity) that bursts from the seams of this collection of essays. Full of some romantic (in many senses) letters, bitter polemics, bloodless (and bloody) decapitations, and piercing insight, Hitchens effortlessly manages to impart wisdom and elicit gut-wrenching laughter. How can these only be some of his unpublished essays! My favorite essay has to be “On the Limits of Self-Improvement” because like most great work, it is immensely personal yet has much to say about all of us. If anything, incorporate his insults into your vocabulary because they are as poetic as they are vitriolic.

Nations slaughter each other for family quarrels, cutting each other’s throats in the name of the Ruler of the Universe, knavish and greedy priests working on their imagination by means of their love of the marvellous and their fears.

Napoleonic is the best word for this biography. The best one I have read on Napoleon, tightly wrapped in one volume (nearly 1000 pages) but entirely exhaustive having poured over 33,000 letters and countless archives to flesh out the larger than life figure. A general outstripping Washington, a statesman rivaling Madison, this is the story of Napoleon from minor Corsican nobility to Emperor of France (and almost Europe). The prose is gorgeous, the story rapturous, this biography is full of energy and life that most are notably lacking. The measure for all future Napoleon biographies (there will be more).

I’m grateful I didn’t buy this book. While it does flesh out–somewhat–the man that was Caesar, the scope is incredibly limited and feels more like an overview than a biography. There are some glaring omissions–like his legendary campaigns at the Roman frontier, namely Gaul, and the tactics that he used–and the stories are a little flat, relying more on the author’s opinions and conclusions repeated throughout as opposed to research that brought new conclusions and themes to bear.

All republics that acquire supremacy over other nations, rule them selfishly and oppressively. There is no exception to this in either ancient or modern times. Carthage, Rome, Venice, Genoa, Florence, Pisa, Holland, and Republican France, all tyrannized over every province and subject state where they gained authority.

A great primer for military history. It is a testament to Creasy’s talent as a writer that despite the bias–ultimately a collection of battles that kept foreign invaders from Europe or England supreme–this book has served as the basis from which military historians work. Amazing accounts of each battle are prefaced with insightful context for the war and battle in focus are enriched by analysis that doesn’t merely stop at the material realm but includes the sort of mythic tales each force told itself. The use of the counterfactual lets already monumental battles grow in our imaginations.