Related:

• Destroy his fib or sophistry--in vain! The creature 's at his dirty work again.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 91...
• Obliged by hunger and request of friends. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
  Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 44...
• On wings of winds came flying all abroad." -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
  Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 218...
• E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
  Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 12...
• Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
  Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 333...
• As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 127...
• Fired that the house rejects him, "'Sdeath! I 'll print it, And shame the fools.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 61...
• That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long, But stoop'd to truth, and moraliz'd his song.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 340...
• Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 213...