Related:

• To Berkeley every virtue under heaven.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epilogue to the Satires, Dialogue ii, Line 73...
• Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.
• 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...
• Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigued, I said; Tie up the knocker!
  ay I 'm sick, I 'm dead. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr....
• He 's armed without that 's innocent within.
• When the brisk minor pants for twenty-one.
• Praise undeserv'd is scandal in disguise.
• The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease.
• Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old.