Imitators Are But A Servile Kind Of

Ill Habits Gather Unseen Degrees, As Brooks Make Rivers, Rivers Run To Seas.

I Feel My Sinews Slackened With The Fright, And A Cold Sweat Trills Down All Over My Limbs, As If I Were Dissolving Into Water.

Learn To Write Well, Or Not To Write At All.

Satire Is A Kind Of Poetry In Which Human Vices Are Reprehended.

A Happy Genius Is The Gift Of Nature.