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Search Results:
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La Rochefoucauld
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Men are more satirical from vanity than from malice.
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John Oldham
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I wear my Pen as others do their Sword. To each affronting sot I meet, the word Is Satisfaction: straight to thrusts I go, And pointed satire runs him through and through.
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Voltaire (Fran?ois-Marie Arouet)
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Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies about them when they die.
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Leo C. Rosten
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Satire is focused bitterness.
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Art Buchwald
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You can't make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you're doing is recording it.
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JOHN BROWN: _An Essay on Satire._
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And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley by a grin.
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BYRON: _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,_ Line 6.
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Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire vi., Line 190.
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For her own breakfast she'll project a scheme, Nor take her tea without a stratagem.
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DRYDEN: _From Persius,_ Satire v., Line 246.
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She knows her man, and when you rant and swear, Can draw you to her with a single hair.
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CRABBE: _Advice,_ Line 244.
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In general satire, every man perceives A slight attack, yet neither fears nor grieves.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire ii., Line 207.
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Where Nature's end of language is declin'd, And men talk only to conceal the mind.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire i., Line 89.
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Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire vii., Line 97.
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How commentators each dark passage shun, And hold their farthing candle to the sun.
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Jeanne-Marie Roland
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A fondness for satire indicates a mind pleased with irritating others for myself, I never could find amusement in killing flies.
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John Oldham
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I wear my Pen as others do their Sword. To each affronting sot I meet, the word Is Satisfaction: straight to thrusts I go, And pointed satire runs him through and through.
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SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.
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The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary,-- That is some satire, keen and critical.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire i., Line 137.
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Titles are marks of honest men and wise; The fool or knave that wears a title, lies.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire ii., Line 67.
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If not to some peculiar end design'd Study 's the specious trifling of the mind, Or is at best a secondary aim, A chase for sport alone, and not for game.
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Voltaire (Fran?ois-Marie Arouet)
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Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies about them when they die.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire ii., Line 165.
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The booby father craves a booby son, And by Heaven's blessing thinks himself undone.
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CRABBE: _Tales:_ Tale xv., _The Squire and the Priest._
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Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burden of some merry song. POPE: Satire i., Bk. ii., Line 76. But 't was a maxim he had often tried, That right was right, and there he would abide.
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WATTS: _Hymns and Spiritual Songs._
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For virtue's self may too much zeal be had; The worst of madmen is a saint run mad. POPE: Satire iv., Line 26. There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire v., Line 57.
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A dearth of words a woman need not fear; But 't is a task indeed to learn--to hear: In that the skill of conversation lies; That shows or makes you both polite and wise.
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SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.
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For I who hold sage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest. POPE: Satire ii., Line 159. So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
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YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire vi., Line 193.
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Think nought a trifle, though it small appear; Small sands the mountain, moments make the year; And trifles life.
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SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.
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There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl, The feast of reason and the flow of soul. POPE: Satire i., Line 6. The whining schoolboy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.
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RICHARD GIFFORD: _Contemplation._
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Whoe'er offends at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme. POPE: Satire i., Bk. ii., Line 76. Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound; She feels no biting pang the while she sings.
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BYRON: _Eng. Bards,_ Line 5.
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Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet; I only wear it in a land of Hectors, Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors. POPE: Satire i., Line 69. Prepare for rhyme--I'll publish, right or wrong; Fools are my th
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ARMSTRONG: _Taste,_ Line 26
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Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find Two of a face as soon as of a mind. POPE: Satire vi., Line 268. Good native Taste, tho' rude, is seldom wrong, Be it in music, painting, or in song: But this, as well as other faculties, Improves with ag
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DR. JOHNSON: _London._
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Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join The varying verse, the full resounding line, The long majestic march, and energy divine. POPE: Satire v., Line 267. Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, Who sleeps on brambles till he kills his man; Some f
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WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Lapse of Time._
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Years following years, steal something every day; At last they steal us from ourselves away. POPE: Satire vi., Line 72. I sigh not over vanished years, But watch the years that hasten by. Look, how they come,--a mingled crowd Of bright and dark, but rapid
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