"Nevermore Let the great interests of the State depend Upon the thousand chances that may sway A piece of human frailty; swear to me That ye will seek hereafter in yourselves The means of sovereignty."

"So his life has flowed From its mysterious urn a sacred stream, In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure Alone are mirrored; which, though shapes of ill May hover round its surface, glides in light, And takes no shadow from them."

"’T is a little thing To give a cup of water; yet its draught Of cool refreshment, drained by fevered lips, May give a shock of pleasure to the frame More exquisite than when nectarean juice Renews the life of joy in happiest hours."

"I have been told by some anciently conversant with the Stage, that it was not Originally his, but brought by a private Author to be Acted and he only gave some Master-touches to one or two of the Principal Parts or Characters; this I am apt to believe, because 'tis the most incorrect and indigested piece in all his Works, It seems rather a heap of Rubbish then a Structure."

"This I did to prevent expences, for … a penny sav'd, is a penny got."

"I think it a greater theft to Rob the dead of their Praise, then the Living of their Money."

"He lost his memory forty years before he died by a fever, and would repeat the same thought sometimes in the compass of ten lines, and did not dream of its being inserted but just before. When you pointed it out to him he would say, "Gads-so, so it is! I thank you very much: pray blot it out." He had the same single thoughts (which were very good) come into his head again that he had used twenty years before. His memory did not carry above a sentence at a time."

"Wycherley used to read himself asleep o' nights either in Montaigne, Rochefoucault, Seneca, or Gracian; for these were his favourite authors. He would read one or other of them in the evening, and the next morning, perhaps, write a copy of verses on some subject similar to what he had been reading; and have all the thoughts of his author, only expressed in a different mode, and that without knowing that he was obliged to any one for a single thought in the whole poem. I have experienced this in him several times (for I visited him for a whole winter, almost every evening and morning), and look upon it as one of the strangest phenomena that I ever observed in the human mind."

"Necessity, the mother of invention."

"And with faint praises one another damn."

"I weigh the man, not his title; 'tis not the king's stamp can make the metal better."

"But what if it turns out, as it just possibly might, that William Shakespeare of Stratford was not the author of the plays ascribed to him? There is a theory, advanced by reputable scholars, seriously and, in my opinion, plausibly, that Shakespeare merely lent his name as a cover for the literary activities of another person, perhaps the Earl of Oxford. If, by some terrible chance, this theory should be proved, then straightway Stratford's tourist business would dwindle. It would become just one more, and honestly not one in the first ten, of England's picturesque small towns."

"A little apish hat, couched fast to the pate, like an oyster; French cambric ruffs, deep with a witness, starched to the purpose: Delicate in speech; quaint in array; conceited in all points; In courtly guiles, a passing singular odd man."

"I overtook, coming from Italy, In Germany, a great and famous Earl Of England; the most goodly fashioned man I ever saw: from head to foot in form Rare and most absolute; he had a face Like one of the most ancient honoured Romans From whence his noblest family was derived; He was besides of spirit passing great Valiant and learned, and liberal as the sun, Spoke and writ sweetly, or of learned subjects, Or of the discipline of public weals: And 'twas the Earl of Oxford."

"If women could be fair and yet not fond, Or that their love were firm, not fickle still, I would not marvel that they make men bond By service long to purchase their good will; But when I see how frail those creatures are, I laugh that men forget themselves so far."

"My mind to me a kingdom is; Such perfect joy therein I find That it excels all other bliss That world affords or grows by kind. Though much I want which most men have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave."

"This Earl of Oxford, making of his low obeisance to Queen Elizabeth, happened to let a Fart, at which he was so abashed and ashamed that he went to Travel [for] 7 years. On his return the Queen welcomed him home, and said, 'My Lord, I had forgot the Fart'."

"A valiant mind no deadly danger fears;"

"So I the pleasant grape have pulled from the vine, And yet I languish in great thirst, while others drink the wine."

"The man that lays his hand upon a woman, Save in the way of kindness, is a wretch Whom 'twere gross flattery to name a coward."

"She's adorned Amply that in her husband’s eye looks lovely,— The truest mirror that an honest wife Can see her beauty in."

"Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction,— That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour Serves but to brighten all our future days."

"And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley by a grin."

"At length the morn and cold indifference came."

"Is she not more than painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love?"

"Is this that haughty gallant, gay Lothario?"

"As if Misfortune made the throne her seat, And none could be unhappy but the great."

"And one false step entirely damns her fame. In vain with tears the loss she may deplore, In vain look back on what she was before; She sets like stars that fall, to rise no more."

"Your bounty is beyond my speaking; But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you."

"[Rowe's] version of Lucan is one of the greatest productions of English poetry; for there is, perhaps, none that so completely exhibits the genius and spirit of the original. Lucan is distinguished by a kind of dictatorial or philosophick dignity, rather, as Quintilian observes, declamatory than poetical; full of ambitious morality and pointed sentences, comprised in vigorous and animated lines. This character Rowe has very diligently and successfully preserved. ... The Pharsalia of Rowe deserves more notice than it obtains, and, as it is more read, will be more esteemed."

"Thou hast prevaricated with thy friend, By underhand contrivances undone me: And while my open nature trusted in thee, Thou hast slept in between me and my hopes, And ravish'd from me all my soul held dear. Thou hast betray'd me."

"None but himself can be his parallel."

"God save our gracious king! Long live our noble king! God save the king!"

"Genteel in personage, Conduct, and equipage; Noble by heritage, Generous and free."

"What a monstrous tail our cat has got!"

"Let the singing singers With vocal voices, most vociferous, In sweet vociferation out-vociferize Even sound itself."

"To thee, and gentle Rigdom Funnidos, Our gratulations flow in streams unbounded."

"The king shall eat, though all mankind be starved."

"His cogitative faculties immersed In cogibundity of cogitation."

"Go call a coach, and let a coach be called; And let the man who calleth be the caller; And in his calling let him nothing call But “Coach! Coach! Coach! Oh for a coach, ye gods!”"

"Of all the girls that are so smart, There's none like pretty Sally."

"Of all the days that's in the week I dearly love but one day, And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday."

"Aldeborontiphoscophornio! Where left you Chrononhotonthologos?"

"See how the rascals use me! They will not let my play run; and yet they steal my thunder."

"A man who could make so vile a pun would not scruple to pick a pocket."

"I called the world mad, and the world called me mad, and they outvoted me."

"Then he will talk—good gods! how he will talk!"

"Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace, That ’t is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him."

"Man, false man, smiling, destructive man!"

"When Greeks joined Greeks, then was the tug of war."