Quotes from butler samuel

For rhyme the rudder is of verses, With which like ships they steer their courses.

She that with poetry is won Is but a desk to write upon.

He that is down can fall no lower.

For Justice, though she's painted blind, Is to the weaker side inclin'd.

So in the wicked there's no vice Of which the saints have not a spice.

Compound for sins they are inclin'd to, By damning those they have no mind to.

No Indian prince has to his palace More followers than a thief to the gallows.

He ne'er considered it as loth To look a gift-horse in the mouth, And very wisely would lay forth No more upon it than 'twas worth; But as he got it freely, so He spent it frank and freely too: For saints themselves will sometimes be, Of gifts that cost them nothing, free.

Cry out upon the stars for doing Ill offices, to cross their wooing.