It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.
The surest road to health, say what they will, Is never to suppose we shall be ill - Most of those evils we poor mortals know, From doctors and imagination flow.
To copy beauty forfeits all pretense to fame; to copy faults is want of sense
Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still
Genius is independent of situation.
Genius is of no country; her pure ray / Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
With various readings stored his empty skull, / Learn'd without sense, and venerably dull.
Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, they damn those authors whom they never read.
So loud each tongue, so empty was each head, / So much they talked, so very little said.
Statesman all over, in plots famous grown,/ He mouths a sentence, as curs mouth a bone.
The best things carried to excess are wrong.
Who often, but without success, have prayed for apt Alliteration's artful aid.
Those who would make us feel, must feel themselves.
Within the brain's most secret cells A certain Lord Chief Justice dwells Of sovereign power, whom one and all With common voice, we Reason call.
With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
Why should we fear; and what? The laws? They all are armed in virtue's cause; And aiming at the self-same end, Satire is always virtue's friend.
Keep up appearances; there lies the test. The world will give thee credit for the rest.
Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.
Amongst the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own?
Men the most infamous are fond of fame, And those who fear not guilt yet start at shame.
No statesman e'er will find it worth his pains To tax our labours and excise our brains.
The danger chiefly lies in acting well; no crime's so great as daring to excel.
Who to patch up his fame, or fill his purse, Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse; Like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known, Defacing first, then claiming for his own.