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When Shakespeare is charges with debts to his authors, Landor
replies, "Yet he was more original than his originals. read more
When Shakespeare is charges with debts to his authors, Landor
replies, "Yet he was more original than his originals. He
breathed upon dead bodies and brought them into life."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson,
It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that
a man, having once shown himself read more
It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that
a man, having once shown himself capable of original writing, is
entitled thenceforth to steal from the writings of others at
discretion.
He that readeth good writers and pickes out their flowres for his
own nose, is lyke a foole.
He that readeth good writers and pickes out their flowres for his
own nose, is lyke a foole.
Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How read more
Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How here he sipp'd, how there he plunder'd snug,
And suck'd all o'er like an industrious bug.
Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you
to do, foolish man, with writings that read more
Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you
to do, foolish man, with writings that convict you of theft? Why
do you attempt to associate foxes with lions, and make owls pass
for eagles? Though you had one of Ladas's legs, you would not be
able, blockhead, to run with the other leg of wood.
The bees pillage the flowers here and there but they make honey
of them which is all their own; read more
The bees pillage the flowers here and there but they make honey
of them which is all their own; it is no longer thyme or
marjolaine: so the pieces borrowed from others he will transform
and mix up into a work all his own.
[Fr., Les abeilles pillotent deca dela les fleurs; mais elles en
font aprez le miel, qui est tout leur; ce n'est plus thym, ny
marjolaine: ainsi les pieces empruntees d'aultruy, il les
transformera et confondra pour en faire un ouvrage tout sien.]
When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he read more
When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' took--the same as me.
We can say nothing but what hath been said . . . Our poets steal
from Homer . . read more
We can say nothing but what hath been said . . . Our poets steal
from Homer . . . . Our storydressers do as much; he that comes
last is commonly best.
The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another read more
The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another wears;
The arms ye forge, another bears.