Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.

Why should we fear; and what? The laws?
They all are armed in virtue's cause;
And aiming read more

Why should we fear; and what? The laws?
They all are armed in virtue's cause;
And aiming at the self-same end,
Satire is always virtue's friend.

Satire is what closes Saturday night.

Satire is what closes Saturday night.

I'll publish, right or wrong: / Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

I'll publish, right or wrong: / Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or
behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, read more

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or
behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out
of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.

Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies
about them when they die.
[Fr., La read more

Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies
about them when they die.
[Fr., La satire ment sur les gens de lettres pendant leur vie, et
l'eloge ment apres leur mort.]

It is difficult not to write satire.
[Lat., Difficile est satiram non scribere.]

It is difficult not to write satire.
[Lat., Difficile est satiram non scribere.]

There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something read more

There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres much too rough.