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Wit, who never once Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce.
Charles Churchill
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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Forgiving
Brother
Shall
Never
Dunce
Forgave
Dunces
Wit
Forgive
More quotes by Charles Churchill
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.
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Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
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He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
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If you mean to profit, learn to praise.
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And reputation bleeds in ev'ry word.
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Man and wife, Coupled together for the sake of strife.
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Genius is independent of situation.
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Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
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With that malignant envy which turns pale, And sickens, even if a friend prevail.
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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?
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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.
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Nature, through all her works, in great degree, Borrows a blessing from variety. Music itself her needful aid requires To rouse the soul, and wake our dying fires.
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Patience is sorrow's salve.
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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.
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To copy faults is want of sense.
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Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
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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.
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Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.
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Genius is of no country.
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Constant attention wears the active mind, Blots out our pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind.
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