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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
Damn
Critics
Criticism
Though
Read
Whim
Never
Authors
Resentment
Envy

More quotes by Charles Churchill

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The best things carried to excess are wrong.
Charles Churchill
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Enough of self, that darling luscious theme, O'er which philosophers in raptures dream Of which with seeming disregard they write Then prizing most when most they seem to slight.
Charles Churchill
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Great use they have, when in the hands Of one like me, who understands, Who understands the time and place, The person, manner, and the grace, Which fools neglect so that we find, If all the requisites are join'd, From whence a perfect joke must spring, A joke's a very serious thing.
Charles Churchill
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Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.
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By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?
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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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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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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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The Scots are poor, cries surly English pride True is the charge, nor by themselves denied. Are they not then in strictest reason clear, Who wisely come to mend their fortunes here?
Charles Churchill
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The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.
Charles Churchill
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Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford and reputation bleeds in every word.
Charles Churchill
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It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.
Charles Churchill
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Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce.
Charles Churchill
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Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.
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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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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Wit, who never once Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce.
Charles Churchill
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Truth! why shall every wretch of letters Dare to speak truth against his betters! Let ragged virtue stand aloof, Nor mutter accents of reproof Let ragged wit a mute become, When wealth and power would have her dumb.
Charles Churchill
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Genius is of no country her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
Charles Churchill
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England a fortune-telling host, As num'rous as the stars, could boast Matrons, who toss the cup, and see The grounds of Fate in grounds of tea.
Charles Churchill