None but an author knows an author's cares,
Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears.

None but an author knows an author's cares,
Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears.

And hold up to the sun my little taper.

And hold up to the sun my little taper.

And force them, though it was in spite
Of Nature and their stars, to write.

And force them, though it was in spite
Of Nature and their stars, to write.

Habits of close attention, thinking heads,
Become more rare as dissipation spreads,
Till authors hear at length read more

Habits of close attention, thinking heads,
Become more rare as dissipation spreads,
Till authors hear at length one general cry
Tickle and entertain us, or we die!

No call has ever poisoned by pen.
[Fr., Aucun fiel n'a jamais empoisonne ma plumme.]

No call has ever poisoned by pen.
[Fr., Aucun fiel n'a jamais empoisonne ma plumme.]

He who writes prose builds his temple to Fame in rubble; he who
writes verses builds it in granite.
read more

He who writes prose builds his temple to Fame in rubble; he who
writes verses builds it in granite.
- Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, first Baron Lytton,

No author ever drew a character, consistent to human nature, but
what he was forced to ascribe to it read more

No author ever drew a character, consistent to human nature, but
what he was forced to ascribe to it many inconsistencies.

But every fool describes, in these bright days,
His wondrous journey to some foreign court,
And spawns read more

But every fool describes, in these bright days,
His wondrous journey to some foreign court,
And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise,--
Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport.

Apt Alliteration's artful aid.

Apt Alliteration's artful aid.