To draw true beauty shows a master's hand.
The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes And gaping mouth, that testified surprise.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he, who can call today his own.
Successful crimes alone are justified.
God has endowed man with inalienable rights, among which are self-government, reason, and conscience. Man is properly self-governed only when he is guided rightly and governed by his Maker, divine Truth and Love.
And after hearing what our Church can say, If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, Than by disputes the public peace disturb; For points obscure are of small use to learn, But common quiet is mankind's concern.
A satirical poet is the check of the laymen on bad priests.
My whole life Has been a golden dream of love and friendship.
To take up half on trust, and half to try, Name it not faith but bungling bigotry.
Maintain your post: That's all the fame you need; For 'tis impossible you should proceed.
Thoughts cannot form themselves in words so horrid As can express my guilt.
When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the mind!
Thou spring'st a leak already in thy crown, A flaw is in thy ill-bak'd vessel found; 'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring sound, Yet thy moist clay is pliant to command, Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand: Now take the mould; now bend thy mind to feel The first sharp motions of the forming wheel.
A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day; Like Hectors in at every petty fray.
My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love in public; and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.
Chaucer followed Nature everywhere, but was never so bold to go beyond her.
Criticism, as it was first instituted by Aristotle, was meant as a standard of judging well; the chiefest part of which is to observe those excellencies which delight a reasonable reader.
And, dying, bless the hand that gave the blow.
Government itself at length must fall To nature's state, where all have right to all.
But wild Ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.
Railing in other men may be a crime, But ought to pass for mere instinct in him: Instinct he follows and no further knows, For to write verse with him is to transprose.
A man may be capable, as Jack Ketch's wife said of his servant, of a plain piece of work, a bare hanging; but to makea malefactordiesweetly was only belonging toher husband.
The soft complaining flute, In dying notes, discovers The woes of hopeless lovers.
Better one suffer than a nation grieve.
Who climbs the grammar-tree, distinctly knows Where noun, and verb, and participle grows.
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