I am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
Genius creates, and taste preserves.
A field of glory is a field for all.
If, presume not to God to scan; The proper study of Mankind is Man. Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state, a being darkly wise, and rudely great.
Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
A perfect woman's but a softer man.