There is probably no hell for authors in the next world--they
suffer so much from critics and publishers in read more

There is probably no hell for authors in the next world--they
suffer so much from critics and publishers in this.

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 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.

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,

So that the jest is clearly to be seen,
Not in the words--but in the gap between;
read more

So that the jest is clearly to be seen,
Not in the words--but in the gap between;
Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,
The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.

Smelling of the lamp.

Smelling of the lamp.

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the read more

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.

The pen is the tongue of the mind.
[Sp., La pluma es lengua del alma.]

The pen is the tongue of the mind.
[Sp., La pluma es lengua del alma.]

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.