Lo, what huge heaps of littleness around!

Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well.

Our passions are like convulsion fits, which, though they make us stronger for a time, leave us the weaker ever after.

Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part.

Love the offender, yet detest the offense.

Blest paper-credit! last and best supply! That lends corruption lighter wings to fly!

Did some more sober critics come abroad? If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the rod.