Some judge of authors' names, not works, and then Nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.
A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead.
The dull flat falsehood serves for policy, and in the cunning, truth's itself a lie.
These riches are possess'd, but not enjoy'd!
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
The lot of man - to suffer and to die.