He that readeth good writers and pickes out their flowres for his
own nose, is lyke a foole.

He that readeth good writers and pickes out their flowres for his
own nose, is lyke a foole.

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to read more

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to invention,
to use, or beauty or form, we are borrowers.

They had their lean books with the fat of others' works.

They had their lean books with the fat of others' works.

When Shakespeare is charges with debts to his authors, Landor
replies, "Yet he was more original than his originals. read more

When Shakespeare is charges with debts to his authors, Landor
replies, "Yet he was more original than his originals. He
breathed upon dead bodies and brought them into life."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson,

We can say nothing but what hath been said . . . Our poets steal
from Homer . . read more

We can say nothing but what hath been said . . . Our poets steal
from Homer . . . . Our storydressers do as much; he that comes
last is commonly best.

The Plagiarism of orators is the art, or an ingenious and easy
mode, which some adroitly employ to change, read more

The Plagiarism of orators is the art, or an ingenious and easy
mode, which some adroitly employ to change, or disguise, all
sorts of speeches or their own composition, or that of other
authors, for their pleasure, or their utility; in such a manner
that it becomes impossible even for the author himself to
recognize his own work, his own genius, and his own style, so
skillfully shall the whole be disguised.
- Isaac D'Israeli,

Their writings are thoughts stolen from us by anticipation.
[Fr., Leurs ecrits sont des vois qu'ils nous ont faite read more

Their writings are thoughts stolen from us by anticipation.
[Fr., Leurs ecrits sont des vois qu'ils nous ont faite d'avance.]

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How read more

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How here he sipp'd, how there he plunder'd snug,
And suck'd all o'er like an industrious bug.

He liked those literary cooks
Who skim the cream of others' books;
And ruin half an author's read more

He liked those literary cooks
Who skim the cream of others' books;
And ruin half an author's graces
By plucking bon-mots from their places.