| Quotes |
Topic |
| Rome | See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead! |
| Rumor | The flying rumours gather'd as the roll'd, Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told; And all who told it added something new. And all who heard it made enlargements too. |
| Rumors | When rumours increase, and when there is an abundance of noise and clamour, believe the second report. |
| Sabbath | See Christians, Jews, one heavy sabbath keep, And all the western world believe and sleep. |
| Sabbath | E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me. |
| Satire | Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel? |
| Satire | There are, to whom my satire seems too bold; Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough, And something said of Chartres much too rough. |
| Satire | Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run amuck and tilt at all I meet. |
| Science | How index-learning turns no student pale, Yet holds the eel of science by the tale. |
| Science | One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit. |
| Sculpture | Then marble, soften'd into life, grew warm. |
| Sculpture | I choose a block of marble and chop off whatever I don't need. |
| Self Knowledge | Trust not yourself, but your defects to know, Make use of every friend and every foe. |
| Self Sacrifice | Many men have been capable of doing a wise thing, more a cunning thing, but very few a generous thing. |
| Sense | What thin partitions sense from thought divide. |
| Sense | 'Tis use alone that sanctifies expense And splendor borrow all her rays from sense. |
| Sense | Good sense which only is the gift of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven. |
| Sense | Fool, 'tis in vain from wit to wit to roam: Know, sense, like charity, begins at home. |
| Sin | How shall I lose the sin yet keep the sense, And love th' offender, yet detest the offence? |
| Singing | But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain. The wond'ring forests soon should dance again; The moving mountains hear the powerful call. And headlong streams hand listening in their fall! |
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