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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
Ill
Cause
Causes
More quotes by Charles Churchill
Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.
Charles Churchill
Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.
Charles Churchill
Even in a hero's heart Discretion is the better part.
Charles Churchill
The oak, when living, monarch of the wood The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.
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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
Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
Charles Churchill
Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
Charles Churchill
By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?
Charles Churchill
To copy faults is want of sense.
Charles Churchill
Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.
Charles Churchill
He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Charles Churchill
If you mean to profit, learn to praise.
Charles Churchill
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
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
Whom drink made wits, though nature made them fools.
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And reputation bleeds in ev'ry word.
Charles Churchill
Genius is of no country her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
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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
Genius is of no country.
Charles Churchill
With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
Charles Churchill