There were two "Reigns of Terror," if we would but remember it and
consider it; the one wrought murder in hot passion, the other in
heartless cold blood; the one lasted mere months, the other had lasted
a thousand years; the one inflicted death upon ten thousand persons,
the other upon a hundred millions; but our shudders are all for the
"horrors" of the minor Terror, the momentary Terror, so to speak;
whereas, what is the horror of swift death by the ax compared with
lifelong death from hunger, cold, insult, cruelty, and heartbreak? A
city cemetery could contain the coffins filled by that brief Terror
which we have all been so diligently taught to shiver at and mourn
over; but all France could hardly contain the coffins filled by that
older and real Terror -- that unspeakably bitter and awful Terror
which none of us has been taught to see in its vastness or pity as it
deserves.
-- Mark Twain. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.
(chpt. 13)