Though they [philosophers] write contemptu gloriæ, yet as Hieron observes, they will put their names to their books.
Robert Burton (1577 - 1640)
Source: Anatomy of Melancholy
Contributed by: Zaady
A nightingale dies for shame if another bird sings better.
And hold one another's noses to the grindstone hard.
Idleness is an appendix to nobility.
For "ignorance is the mother of devotion," as all the world knows.
We can say nothing but what hath been said. Our poets steal from Homer. . . . Our story-dressers do as much; he that comes last is commonly best.
I light my candle from their torches.
Like Æsop's fox, when he had lost his tail, would have all his fellow foxes cut off theirs.
All our geese are swans.
Where God hath a temple, the Devil will have a chapel.
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