Who To Himself Is Law No Law

And For The Authentical Truth Of Either Person Or Actions, Who (worth The Respecting) Will Expect It In A Poem, Whose Subject Is Not Truth, But Things Like Truth? Poor Envious Souls They Are That Cavil At Truth's Want In These Natural Fictions; Material Instruction, Elegant And Sententious Excitation To Virtue, And Deflection From Her Contrary, Being The Soul, Limbs, And Limits Of An Authentical Tragedy.

Enough 's As Good As A Feast.

And Let A Scholar All Earth's Volumes Carry, He Will Be But A Walking Dictionary: A Mere Articulate Clock.

An Englishman, Being Flattered, Is A Lamb; Threatened, A Lion.

For One Heat, All Know, Doth Drive Out Another, One Passion Doth Expel Another Still.