“
Unless a love of virtue light the flame,His own offences, and strips others' bare.
— Satire
Unless a love of virtue light the flame,His own offences, and strips others' bare.
Why should we fear; and what? The laws?Satire is always virtue's friend.
Satire well applied, is the medicine of the mind.
Satirists, be careful. In the 1931 film by René Clair À Nous la Liberté a song says, "Work is freedom." In 1940 the sign on the gates to Auschwitz said: "Albeit macht frei."
It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Satire is a kind of glass, wherein beholders do generally discover everybody's face but their own.
Satire, by being levelled at all, is never resented for an offence by any.
A good satirist never pauses to worry about angering the citizenry.
Satire is what closes on Saturday night.
Men are more satirical from vanity than from malice.
Satire should, like a polished razor keen,The rage but not the talent to abuse.
I wear my Pen as others do their Sword.And pointed satire runs him through and through.
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend.
Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;And something said of Chartres much too rough.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreetTo run amuck and tilt at all I meet.
