Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to read more

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to invention,
to use, or beauty or form, we are borrowers.

To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism, to steal ideas from many is research.

To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism, to steal ideas from many is research.

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 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.

He liked those literary cooks
Who skim the cream of others' books;
And ruin half an author's read more

He liked those literary cooks
Who skim the cream of others' books;
And ruin half an author's graces
By plucking bon-mots from their places.

With him most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.

With him most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.

I recover my property wherever I find it.
[Fr., Je reprends mon bien ou je le trouve.]

I recover my property wherever I find it.
[Fr., Je reprends mon bien ou je le trouve.]

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,

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.