Samuel Butler Quotes

A Babylonish dialect
Which learned pedants much affect.

He that complies against his will.
Is of his own opinion still.

He had got a hurt
O' the inside, of a deadlier sort.

He cou'd foretel whats'ever was By consequence to come to pass; As death of great men, alterations, Diseases, battles, inundations. All this, without th' eclipse o' th' sun, Or dreadful comet, he hath done, By inward light; away as good, And easy to be understood; But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose, Like Knights o' th' post, and falsely charge Upon themselves what others forge: As if they were consenting to All mischiefs in the world men do: Or, like the Devil, did tempt and sway 'em To rogueries, and then betray 'em.

Cheer'd up himself with ends of verse
And sayings of philosophers.

Why should not conscience have vacation
As well as other courts o' th' nation?

And poets by their sufferings grow;
As if there were no more to do,
To make a poet excellent,
But only want and discontent.

Still amorous and fond and billing,
Like Philip and Mary on a shilling.

Beside, 't is known he could speak Greek
As naturally as pigs squeak;
That Latin was no more difficile
Than to a blackbird 't is to whistle.

Who thought he 'd won
The field as certain as a gun.

For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope; And when he happen'd to break off I' th' middle of his speech, or cough, H' had hard words,ready to show why, And tell what rules he did it by; Else, when with greatest art he spoke, You'd think he talk'd like other folk, For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools.

When civil fury first grew high, And men fell out, they knew not why; When hard words, jealousies, and fears, Set folks together by the ears, And made them fight, like mad or drunk, For Dame Religion, as for punk; Whose honesty they all durst swear for, Though not a man of them knew wherefore: When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded, And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick, Was beat with fist, instead of a stick; Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling, And out he rode a colonelling.

For what is worth in anything
But so much money as 't will bring?

With books and money plac'd for show
Like nest-eggs to make clients lay,
And for his false opinion pay.

Each window like a pill'ry appears,
With heads thrust thro' nail'd by the ears.