To Err Is Human; To Forgive, Divine.

There Still Remains To Mortify A Wit The Many-headed Monster Of The Pit.

Some Old Men, Continually Praise The Time Of Their Youth. In Fact, You Would Almost Think That There Were No Fools In Their Days, But Unluckily They Themselves Are Left As An Example.

Most Authors Steal Their Works, Or Buy.

Oh! If To Dance All Night, And Dress All Day, Charm'd The Small-pox, Or Chas'd Old Age Away; . . . . To Patch, Nay Ogle, Might Become A Saint, Nor Could It Sure Be Such A Sin To Paint.

Like Following Life Through Creatures You Dissect, You Lose It In The Moment You Detect.