The book that he has made renders its author this service in
return, that so long as the book read more

The book that he has made renders its author this service in
return, that so long as the book survives, its author remains
immortal and cannot die.

There is probably no hell for authors in the next world--they
suffer so much from critics and publishers in read more

There is probably no hell for authors in the next world--they
suffer so much from critics and publishers in this.

The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron, and with the
point of a diamond: it read more

The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron, and with the
point of a diamond: it is graven upon the table of their heart,
and upon the horns of your altars;
Whilst their children remember their altars and their groves by
the green trees upon the high hills.

Indeed, unless a man can link his written thoughts with the
everlasting wants of men, so that they shall read more

Indeed, unless a man can link his written thoughts with the
everlasting wants of men, so that they shall draw more from them
as wells, there is no more immortality to the thoughts and
feelings of the soul than to the muscles and bones.

He who writes prose builds his temple to Fame in rubble; he who
writes verses builds it in granite.
read more

He who writes prose builds his temple to Fame in rubble; he who
writes verses builds it in granite.
- Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, first Baron Lytton,

No call has ever poisoned by pen.
[Fr., Aucun fiel n'a jamais empoisonne ma plumme.]

No call has ever poisoned by pen.
[Fr., Aucun fiel n'a jamais empoisonne ma plumme.]

None but an author knows an author's cares,
Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears.

None but an author knows an author's cares,
Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears.

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the read more

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.

No author ever drew a character, consistent to human nature, but
what he was forced to ascribe to it read more

No author ever drew a character, consistent to human nature, but
what he was forced to ascribe to it many inconsistencies.