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Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.
Charles Churchill
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Charles Churchill
Died: 1764
Died: November 4
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Causes
Ill
Cause
More quotes by Charles Churchill
The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.
Charles Churchill
He mouths a sentence as curs mouth a bone.
Charles Churchill
Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.
Charles Churchill
It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.
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Even in a hero's heart Discretion is the better part.
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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.
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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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By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?
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Genius is of no country.
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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
Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford and reputation bleeds in every word.
Charles Churchill
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
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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Wit, who never once Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce.
Charles Churchill
With that malignant envy which turns pale, And sickens, even if a friend prevail.
Charles Churchill
To copy faults is want of sense.
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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.
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Man and wife, Coupled together for the sake of strife.
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The best things carried to excess are wrong.
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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.
Charles Churchill