Everything, virtue, glory, honor, things human and divine, all are slaves to riches.

Let this be your wall of brass, to have nothing on your conscience, no guilt to make you turn pale.

Wise were the kings who never chose a friend till with full cups they had unmasked his soul, and seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts.

Take subject matter equal to your powers, and ponder long, what your shoulders cannot bear, and what they can.

Capture your reader, let him not depart, from dull beginnings that refuse to start

The jackdaw, stript of her stolen colours, provokes our laughter.

Punishment closely follows guilt as its companion.