Satire is what closes Saturday night.

Satire is what closes Saturday night.

Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies
about them when they die.
[Fr., La read more

Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies
about them when they die.
[Fr., La satire ment sur les gens de lettres pendant leur vie, et
l'eloge ment apres leur mort.]

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or
behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, read more

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or
behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out
of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;
Willing read more

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike;
Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend,
A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend.

Satire should, like a polished razor keen,
Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.
Thine read more

Satire should, like a polished razor keen,
Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.
Thine is an oyster knife, that hacks and hews;
The rage but not the talent to abuse.

Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

It is a pretty mocking of the life.

It is a pretty mocking of the life.

Satire is a sort of glass, wherein beholders do generally
discover everybody's face but their own.

Satire is a sort of glass, wherein beholders do generally
discover everybody's face but their own.

Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
read more

Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
He hides behind a magisterial air
He own offences, and strips others' bare.