What nature wants, commodious gold bestows; 'Tis thus we cut the bread another sows.

Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old:It is the rust we value, not the gold.

I proved the critics wrong. And now we have the gold.

Order is heaven's first law.

The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

Genius creates, and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius; without taste, genius is only sublime folly.