Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.

Who often, but without success, have prayed for apt Alliteration's artful aid.

It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.

All hunt for fame, but most mistake the way.

Whom drink made wits, though nature made them fools.

Genius is independent of situation.

Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.