Light quirks of music, broken and uneven,Make the soul dance upon a jig to Heav'n.

Genius creates, and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius; without taste, genius is only sublime folly.

You beat your Pate, and fancy Wit will come: Knock as you please, there's no body at home.

Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien As to be hated needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?

All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. [and therefore the solution is to fix the jaundiced eye.]