The laws I love; the lawyers I suspect.
With various readings stored his empty skull, Learn'd without sense, and venerably dull.
The danger chiefly lies in acting well; no crime's so great as daring to excel.
On the four aces doom'd to roll.
To copy beauty forfeits all pretense to fame; to copy faults is want of sense
Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.