Quote

Constant attention wears the active mind, Blots out our pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind.

Charles Churchill

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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Blank
Leaves
Active
Constant
Behinds
Behind
Blots
Attention
Pow
Mind
Wears

More quotes by 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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What is this world?--A term which men have got, To signify not one in ten knows what A term, which with no more precision passes To point out herds of men than herds of asses In common use no more it means, we find, Than many fools in same opinions joined.
Charles Churchill
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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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When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, men will believe, because they love the lie but truth herself, if clouded with a frown, must have some solemn proof to pass her down.
Charles Churchill
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Satire, whilst envy and ill-humor sway The mind of man, must always make her way Nor to a bosom, with discretion fraught, Is all her malice worth a single thought. The wise have not the will, nor fools the power, To stop her headstrong course within the hour Left to herself, she dies opposing strife Gives her fresh vigor, and prolongs her life.
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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Patience is sorrow's salve.
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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If you mean to profit, learn to praise.
Charles Churchill
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Man and wife, Coupled together for the sake of strife.
Charles Churchill
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Genius is of no country.
Charles Churchill
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He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Charles Churchill
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The best things carried to excess are wrong.
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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Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
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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Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
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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The surest way to health, say what they will, Is never to suppose we shall be ill Most of the ills which we poor mortals know From doctors and imagination flow.
Charles Churchill
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By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?
Charles Churchill