Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.

Confidence is the feeling we have before knowing all the facts

And plenty makes us poor.

Merit challenges envy.

Not Heav'n itself upon the past has pow'r; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

Imagination in a poet is a faculty so wild and lawless that, like a high ranging spaniel, it must have clogs tied to it, lest it outrun the judgment. The great easiness of blank verse renders the poet too luxuriant. He is tempted to say many things which might better be omitted, or, at least shut up in fewer words.

The propriety of thoughts and words, which are the hidden beauties of a play, are but confusedly judged in the vehemence of action.