There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased, They scarcely come inclining to be pleased: And sure he must have more than mortal Skill, Who please one against his Will.

To find a young fellow that is neither a wit in his own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the world, is a very hard task.

I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit.

Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.

No mask like open truth to cover lies, As to go naked is the best disguise.

Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.

Whoever is king, is also the father of his country.