Not gods, nor men, nor even booksellers have put up with poets' being second-rate.
Those who seek for much are left in want of much. Happy is he to whom God has given, with sparing hand, as much as is enough.
Let us both small and great push forward in this work, in this pursuit, if to our country, if to ourselves we would live dear.
The jackdaw, stript of her stolen colours, provokes our laughter.
Riches either serve or govern the possessor.
Whom does undeserved honour please, and undeserved blame alarm, but the base and the liar?