Ill writers are usually the sharpest censors.
To draw true beauty shows a master’s hand.
The greater part performed achieves the less.
Beauty is nothing else but a just accord and mutual harmony of the members, animated by a healthful constitution.
What judgment I had increases rather than diminishes; and thoughts, such as they are, come crowding in so fast upon me, that my only difficulty is to choose or reject; to run them into verse or to give them the other harmony of prose.
The first is the law, the last prerogative.
Maintain your post: That’s all the fame you need; For ’tis impossible you should proceed.
To take up half on trust, and half to try, Name it not faith but bungling bigotry.
Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.
Who climbs the grammar-tree, distinctly knows Where noun, and verb, and participle grows.
When Misfortune is asleep, let no one wake her.
Thoughts cannot form themselves in words so horrid As can express my guilt.
My hands are guilty, but my heart is free.
Murder may pass unpunishd for a time, But tardy justice will oertake the crime.
There’s a proud modesty in merit; averse from asking, and resolved to pay ten times the gifts it asks.
Ill fortune seldom comes alone.
Damn’d neuters, in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.
Ill news is wing’d with fate, and flies apace.
From Harmony, from heav’nly Harmony. This universal Frame began.
Nature meant for me a wife, a silly harmless household Dove, fond without art; and kind without deceit.