Top 74 Charles Churchill Quotes
#1. With that malignant envy which turns pale, And sickens, even if a friend prevail.
Charles Churchill
#2. By different methods different men excel, but where is he who can do all things well?
Charles Churchill
#5. The oak, when living, monarch of the wood; The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood.
Charles Churchill
#6. 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
#8. Amongst the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own.
Charles Churchill
#9. Who shall dispute what the Reviewers say? Their word's sufficient; and to ask a reason, In such a state as theirs, is downright treason.
Charles Churchill
#12. 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
#14. Childhood, who like an April morn appears,
Sunshine and rain, hopes clouded o'er with fears.
Charles Churchill
#15. Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.
Charles Churchill
#16. Men the most infamous are fond of fame, And those who fear not guilt yet start at shame.
Charles Churchill
#17. Truth! why shall every wretch of letters Dare to speak truth against his betters! Let ragged virtue stand aloof, Nor mutter accents of reproof; Let ragged wit a mute become, When wealth and power would have her dumb.
Charles Churchill
#18. Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.
Charles Churchill
#20. With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought.
Charles Churchill
#21. What is this world?
A term which men have got,
To signify not one in ten knows what;
A term, which with no more precision passes
To point out herds of men than herds of asses;
In common use no more it means, we find,
Than many fools in same opinions joined.
Charles Churchill
#22. Nature, through all her works, in great degree,
Borrows a blessing from variety.
Music itself her needful aid requires
To rouse the soul, and wake our dying fires.
Charles Churchill
#26. This a sacred rule we find
Among the nicest of mankind,
(Which never might exception brook
From Hobbes even down to Bolingbroke,)
To doubt of facts, however true,
Unless they know the causes too.
Charles Churchill
#27. Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends; He hurts me most who lavishly commends.
Charles Churchill
#28. Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own.
Charles Churchill
#32. 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
#33. If honor calls, where'er she points the way
The sons of honor follow, and obey.
Charles Churchill
#34. Nature listening stood, whilst Shakespeare play'd
And wonder'd at the work herself had made.
Charles Churchill
#35. Who often, but without success, have prayed for apt Alliteration's artful aid.
Charles Churchill
#37. England, a happy land we know,
Where follies naturally grow,
Where without culture they arise,
And tow'r above the common size.
Charles Churchill
#38. Genius is of no country; her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
Charles Churchill
#39. 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
#40. Enough of satire; in less harden'd times
Great was her force, and mighty were her rhymes.
I've read of men, beyond man's daring brave,
Who yet have trembled at the strokes she gave;
Whose souls have felt more terrible alarms
From her one line, than from a world in arms.
Charles Churchill
#42. With various readings stored his empty skull, Learn'd without sense, and venerably dull.
Charles Churchill
#44. Keep up appearances; there lies the test. The world will give thee credit for the rest.
Charles Churchill
#46. 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
#48. The danger chiefly lies in acting well; no crime's so great as daring to excel.
Charles Churchill
#52. Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, they damn those authors whom they never read.
Charles Churchill
#55. The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.
Charles Churchill
#58. Enough of self, that darling luscious theme,
O'er which philosophers in raptures dream;
Of which with seeming disregard they write
Then prizing most when most they seem to slight.
Charles Churchill
#59. To copy beauty forfeits all pretense to fame; to copy faults is want of sense.
Charles Churchill
#60. Constant attention wears the active mind, Blots out our pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind.
Charles Churchill
#61. When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, men will believe, because they love the lie; but truth herself, if clouded with a frown, must have some solemn proof to pass her down.
Charles Churchill
#62. Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford; and reputation bleeds in every word.
Charles Churchill
#64. Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound,
Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.
Charles Churchill
#65. When satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing, Short is her life, and impotent her sting; But when to truth allied, the wound she gives Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives.
Charles Churchill
#66. Be England what she will, with all her faults she is my country still.
Charles Churchill
#67. 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
#68. 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.
Charles Churchill
#69. England a fortune-telling host, As num'rous as the stars, could boast; Matrons, who toss the cup, and see The grounds of Fate in grounds of tea ...
Charles Churchill
#70. A servile race Who, in mere want of fault, all merit place; Who blind obedience pay to ancient schools, Bigots to Greece, and slaves to musty rules.
Charles Churchill
#71. There's a strange something, which without a brain
Fools feel, and which e'en wise men can't explain,
Planted in man, to bind him to that earth,
In dearest ties, from whence he drew his birth.
Charles Churchill
#74. Fashion
a word which knaves and fools may use, Their knavery and folly to excuse.
Charles Churchill
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