Whom Drink Made Wits, Though

The Stage I Chose--a Subject Fair And Free-- 'tis Yours--'tis Mine--'tis Public Property. All Common Exhibitions Open Lie, For Praise Or Censure, To The Common Eye. Hence Are A Thousand Hackney Writers Fed; Hence Monthly Critics Earn Their Daily Bread. This Is A General Tax Which All Must Pay, From Those Who Scribble, Down To Those Who Play.

The Laws I Love; The Lawyers I Suspect.

Fame Is Nothing But An Empty Name.

Most Of Those Evils We Poor Mortals Know From Doctors And Imagination Flow.

All Hunt For Fame, But Most Mistake The Way.