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

Virtuous and vicious every man must be, few in the extreme, but all in the degree.

But those who cannot write, and those who can, All rhyme, and scrawl, and scribble, to a man.

Get your enemy to read your works in order to mend them, for your friend is so much your second self that he will judge too like you.

When two people compliment each other with the choice of anything, each of them generally gets that which he likes least.

What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.

Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.