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Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, they damn those authors whom they never read.

Charles Churchill

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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Never
Authors
Resentment
Envy
Damn
Critics
Criticism
Though
Read
Whim

More quotes by Charles Churchill

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Amongst the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own.
Charles Churchill
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With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
Charles Churchill
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Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Charles Churchill
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Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
Charles Churchill
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Gipsies, who every ill can cure, Except the ill of being poor Who charms 'gainst love and agues sell, Who can in hen-roost set a spell, Prepar'd by arts, to them best known To catch all feet except their own, Who, as to fortune, can unlock it, As easily as pick a pocket.
Charles Churchill
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Within the brain's most secret cells, A certain lord chief justice dwells, Of sov'reign power, whom one and all, With common voice we reason call.
Charles Churchill
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Who to patch up his fame, or fill his purse, Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse Like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known, Defacing first, then claiming for his own.
Charles Churchill
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The oak, when living, monarch of the wood The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.
Charles Churchill
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Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.
Charles Churchill
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Drawn by conceit from reason's plan How vain is that poor creature man How pleas'd in ev'ry paltry elf To grate about that thing himself.
Charles Churchill
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Constant attention wears the active mind, Blots out our pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind.
Charles Churchill
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Nature listening stood, whilst Shakespeare play'd And wonder'd at the work herself had made.
Charles Churchill
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Old Age, a second child, by nature curst With more and greater evils than the first, Weak, sickly, full of pains: in ev'ry breath Railing at life, and yet afraid of death.
Charles Churchill
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Though folly, robed in purple, shines, Though vice exhausts Peruvian mines, Yet shall they tremble and turn pale When satire wields her mighty flail.
Charles Churchill
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Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce.
Charles Churchill
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By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?
Charles Churchill
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Patience is sorrow's salve.
Charles Churchill
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He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Charles Churchill
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Genius is of no country.
Charles Churchill
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Wit, who never once Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce.
Charles Churchill