Who fears not to do ill fears the name, And free from conscience, is a slave to fame.
We are never like angels till our passion dies.
Sure there are poets which did never dream Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream Of Helicon; we therefore may suppose Those made not poets, but the poets those.
You prove but too clearly that seeking to know Is too frequently learning to doubt.
Poetry is of so subtle a spirit, that in the pouring out of one language into another it will evaporate.
The man who first abused his fellows with swear-words instead of bashing their brains out with a club should be counted among those who laid the foundations of civilization.