Imitators are but a servile kind of cattle.
None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
He is the very Janus of poets; he wears almost everywhere two faces; and you have scarce begun to admire the one, ere you despise the other.
Rhyme is the rock on which thou art to wreck.
Fortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.
Lucky men are favorites of Heaven.