Virtue Is Not Malicious; Wrong

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.

Fair Words Never Hurt The Tongue.

Poetry, Unlike Oratory, Should Not Aim At Clarity... But Be Dense With Meaning, 'something To Be Chewed And Digested'.

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

Promise Is Most Given When The Least Is Said.