You Despise A Man For Avarice; But

New Arts Are Long In The World Before Poets Describe Them; For They Borrow Everything From Their Predecessors, And Commonly Derive Very Little From Nature Or From Life.

Words Too Familiar, Or Too Remote, Defeat The Purpose Of A Poet. From Those Sounds Which We Hear On Small Or On Coarse Occasions, We Do Not Easily Receive Strong Impressions, Or Delightful Images; And Words To Which We Are Nearly Strangers, Whenever They Occur, Draw That Attention On Themselves Which They Should Transmit To Other Things.

He Who Writes Much Will Not Easily Escape A Manner, Such A Recurrence Of Particular Modes As May Be Easily Noted.

Forgetfulness Is Necessary To Remembrance. Ideas Are Retained By Renovation Of That Impression Which Time Is Always Wearing Away,and Which New Images Are Striving To Obliterate. If Useless Thoughts Could Be Expelled From The Mind, All The Valuable Parts Of Our Knowledge Would More Frequently Recur, And Every Recurrence Would Reinstate Them In Their Former Place.

He Who Attempts To Do All Will Waste His Life In Doing Little.