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
Leaves
Active
Constant
Behinds
Behind
Blots
Attention
Pow
Mind
Wears
Blank

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.
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Genius is of no country her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
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With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
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The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.
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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.
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Even in a hero's heart Discretion is the better part.
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Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford and reputation bleeds in every word.
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Whom drink made wits, though nature made them fools.
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If you mean to profit, learn to praise.
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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.
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Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, they damn those authors whom they never read.
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Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.
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Patience is sorrow's salve.
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No two on earth in all things can agree All have some darling singularity Women and men, as well as girls and boys, In gewgaws take delight, and sigh for toys, Your sceptres and your crowns, and such like things, Are but a better kind of toys for kings. In things indifferent reason bids us choose, Whether the whim's a monkey or a muse.
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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.
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Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce.
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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.
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Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.
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Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
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Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.
Charles Churchill