When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, men will believe, because they love the lie; but truth herself, if clouded with a frown, must have some solemn proof to pass her down.
The proud will sooner lose than ask their way.
To copy beauty forfeits all pretense to fame; to copy faults is want of sense
The best things carried to excess are wrong.
He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?