But satire, ever moral, ever new, Delights the reader and instructs him, too. She, if good sense refine her sterling page, Oft shakes some rooted folly of the age.

In spite of every sage whom Greece can show, Unerring wisdom never dwelt below; Folly in all of every age we see, The only difference lies in the degree.

Honor is like an island, rugged and without a beach; once we have left it, we can never return.

No one who cannot limit himself has ever been able to write.

The greatest fools are oft the most satisfied.

Nature always springs to the surface and manages to show what she is. It is vain to stop or try to drive her back. She breaks through every obstacle, pushes forward, and at last makes for herself a way.

Gold lends a touch of beauty even to the ugly.