For rhyme the rudder is of verses, With which, like ships, they steer their courses.

Some force whole regions, in despite O' geography, to change their site; Make former times shake hands with latter, And that which was before come after; But those that write in rhyme still make The one verse for the other's sake; For one for sense, and one for rhyme, I think's sufficient at one time.

[P]oetry resembles metaphysics: one does not mind one's own, but one does not like anyone else's.

Quoth Hudibras, I smell a rat; Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate.

For now the field is not far off Where we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words.

He was in Logic, a great critic, Profoundly skill'd in Analytic; He could distinguish, and divide A hair 'twixt south and south-west side.