No tribute is laid on castles in the air.
Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends; He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, they damn those authors whom they never read.
Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford; and reputation bleeds in every word.
The best things carried to excess are wrong.
To copy beauty forfeits all pretense to fame; to copy faults is want of sense