There are more fools than knaves in the world, else the knaves would not have enough to live upon.
The Genuine Remains in Verse and Prose of Mr. Samuel Butler (1759), edited by Robert Thyer
Authority intoxicates, And makes mere sots of magistrates; The fumes of it invade the brain, And make men giddy, proud and vain; By this the fool commands the wise, The noble with the base complies, The sot assumes the rule of wit, and cowards make the base submit.
From Miscellaneous Thoughts, lines 283-290; as contained in The Poetical Works of Samuel Butler: A Revised Edition with Memoir and Notes, Volume 2, Samuel Butler, G. Bell & Sons (1893), pp. 275-276
And poets by their sufferingsgrow; As if there were no more to do, To make a poet excellent, But only want and discontent.
"Miscellaneous Thoughts" in The Poems of Samuel Butler, Volume 2, Press of C. Whittingham, 1822, p. 269
"Fragments", reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)
They who study mathematiks only to fix their minds, and render them the steadyer to apply to all other things, as there are many who profess to do, are as wise as those who think by rowing boats, to learn to swim.
When civil fury first grew high, And men fell out, they knew not why; When hard words, jealousies, and fears, Set folks together by the ears, And made them fight, like mad or drunk, For Dame Religion, as for punk; Whose honesty they all durst swear for, Though not a man of them knew wherefore: When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded, And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick, Was beat with fist, instead of a stick; Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling, And out he rode a colonelling.
Canto I, first lines
We grant, although he had much wit, He was very shy of using it.
Canto I, line 45
Beside, 't is known he could speak Greek As naturally as pigs squeak; That Latin was no more difficile Than to a blackbird 't is to whistle.
Canto I, line 51
He was in LOGIC a great critic, Profoundly skill'd in analytic; He could distinguish, and divide A hair 'twixt south, and south-west side: On either which he would dispute, Confute, change hands, and still confute, He'd undertake to prove, by force Of argument, a man's no horse; He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl, A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, And rooks Committee-men and Trustees.
Canto I, line 65
For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope; And when he happen'd to break off I' th' middle of his speech, or cough, H' had hard words,ready to show why, And tell what rules he did it by; Else, when with greatest art he spoke, You'd think he talk'd like other folk, For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools.
Canto I, line 81
A Babylonish dialect Which learned pedants much affect.
Canto I, line 93
For he could coin, or counterfeit New words, with little or no wit; Words so debas'd and hard, no stone Was hard enough to touch them on; And when with hasty noise he spoke 'em; The ignorant for current took 'em;
A skilful leech is better far Than half an hundred men of war, So he appear'd; and by his skill, No less than dint of sword, cou'd kill.
Shall we that in the Cov'nant swore, Each man of us to run before Another, still in Reformation, Give dogs and bears a dispensation? How will Dissenting Brethren relish it? What will malignants say? videlicet, That each man Swore to do his best, To damn and perjure all the rest! And bid the Devil take the hin'most, Which at this race is like to win most.
They'll say our bus'ness, to reform The Church and State, is but a worm; For to subscribe, unsight, unseen, To an unknown Church-discipline, What is it else, but before-hand T'engage, and after understand? For when we swore to carry on The present Reformation, According to the purest mode Of Churches best reformed abroad, What did we else, but make a vow To do we know not what, nor how?'
In mathematics he was greater Than Tycho Brahe, or Erra Pater: For he, by geometric scale, Could take the size of pots of ale; Resolve, by sines and tangents straight, If bread and butter wanted weight; And wisely tell what hour o' th' day The clock doth strike, by algebra.
Canto I, line 119
Whatever sceptic could inquire for, For ev'ry why he had a wherefore; Knew more than forty of them do, As far as words and terms cou'd go. All which he understood by rote And, as occasion serv'd, would quote; No matter whether right or wrong, They might be either said or sung. His notions fitted things so well, That which was which he could not tell; But oftentimes mistook th' one For th' other, as great clerks have done.
Canto I, line 131
Where entity and quiddity, The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly.
Canto I, line 145
He knew what 's what, and that 's as high As metaphysic wit can fly.
Canto I, line 149
And weave fine cobwebs, fit for skull That's empty when the moon is full; Such as take lodgings in a head That's to be let unfurnished.
Canto I, line 159
For his Religion, it was fit To match his learning and his wit; 'Twas Presbyterian true blue; For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true Church Militant; Such as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery; And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks; Call fire and sword and desolation, A godly thorough reformation, Which always must be carried on, And still be doing, never done; As if religion were intended For nothing else but to be mended. A sect, whose chief devotion lies In odd perverse antipathies; In falling out with that or this, And finding somewhat still amiss; More peevish, cross, and splenetick, Than dog distract, or monkey sick. That with more care keep holy-day The wrong, than others the right way; Compound for sins they are inclin'd to, By damning those they have no mind to: Still so perverse and opposite, As if they worshipp'd God for spite. The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for. Free-will they one way disavow, Another, nothing else allow: All piety consists therein In them, in other men all sin...
Canto I, line 189
The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty, For want of fighting was grown rusty, And ate into itself, for lack Of somebody to hew and hack.
Canto I, line 359
For Rhime the Rudder is of Verses, With which like Ships they steer their courses.
Canto I, line 463
He ne'er consider'd it, as loth To look a gift-horse in the mouth.
Canto I, line 490
And force them, though it was in spite Of Nature and their stars, to write.
Canto I, line 647
Quoth Hudibras, "I smell a rat! Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate."
Canto I, line 821
Or shear swine, all cry and no wool.
Canto I, line 852
And bid the devil take the hin'most.
Canto II, line 633
With many a stiff thwack, many a bang, Hard crab-tree and old iron rang.
Canto II, line 831
Like feather bed betwixt a wall And heavy brunt of cannon ball.
Canto II, line 872
Ay me! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron!
Canto III, line 1
Who thought he 'd won The field as certain as a gun.
Canto III, line 11
Nor do I know what is become Of him, more than the Pope of Rome.
Canto III, line 263
I 'll make the fur Fly 'bout the ears of the old cur.
Canto III, line 277
He had got a hurt O' the inside, of a deadlier sort.
Canto III, line 309
These reasons made his mouth to water.
Canto III, line 379
While the honour thou hast got Is spick and span new.
Canto III, line 398
With mortal crisis doth portend My days to appropinque an end.
Canto III, line 589
For those that run away and fly, Take place at least o' the enemy.
Canto III, line 609
I am not now in fortune's power: He that is down can fall no lower.
Canto III, line 877
Cheer'd up himself with ends of verse And sayings of philosophers.
Canto III, line 1011
If he that in the field is slain Be in the bed of honour lain, He that is beaten may be said To lie in honour's truckle-bed.
Canto III, line 1047
When pious frauds and holy shifts Are dispensations and gifts.
Canto III, line 1145
Friend Ralph, thou hast Outrun the constable at last.
Canto III, line 1367
This Light inspires, and plays upon The nose of Saint like Bag-pipe drone, And speaks through hollow empty Soul, As through a Trunk, or whisp'ring hole, Such language as no mortal Ear But spiritual Eve-droppers can hear.
He cou'd foretel whats'ever was By consequence to come to pass; As death of great men, alterations, Diseases, battles, inundations. All this, without th' eclipse o' th' sun, Or dreadful comet, he hath done, By inward light; away as good, And easy to be understood; But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose, Like Knights o' th' post, and falsely charge Upon themselves what others forge: As if they were consenting to All mischiefs in the world men do: Or, like the Devil, did tempt and sway 'em To rogueries, and then betray 'em.
Part II (1664)
Some force whole regions, in despite O' geography, to change their site; Make former times shake hands with latter, And that which was before come after. But those that write in rhyme still make The one verse for the other's sake; For one for sense, and one for rhyme, I think 's sufficient at one time.
Canto I, line 23
Some have been beaten till they know What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow; Some kick'd until they can feel whether A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather.
Canto I, line 221
No Indian prince has to his palace More followers than a thief to the gallows.
Canto I, line 273
Quoth she, I 've heard old cunning stagers Say fools for arguments use wagers.
Canto I, line 297
Love in your hearts as idly burns As fire in antique Roman urns.
Canto I, line 309
For what is worth in anything But so much money as 't will bring?
Canto I, line 465
Love is a boy by poets styl'd; Then spare the rod and spoil the child.
Canto I, line 843
The sun had long since in the lap Of Thetis taken out his nap, And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn From black to red began to turn.
Canto II, line 29
Have always been at daggers-drawing, And one another clapper-clawing.
Canto II, line 79
For truth is precious and divine,— Too rich a pearl for carnal swine.
Canto II, line 257
Why should not conscience have vacation As well as other courts o' th' nation?
Canto II, line 317
He that imposes an oath makes it, Not he that for convenience takes it; Then how can any man be said To break an oath he never made?
Canto II, line 377.
As the ancients Say wisely, have a care o' th' main chance, And look before you ere you leap; For as you sow, ye are like to reap.
Canto II, line 501
Doubtless the pleasure is as great Of being cheated as to cheat.
Canto III, line 1
He made an instrument to know If the moon shine at full or no.
Canto III, line 261
Each window like a pill'ry appears, With heads thrust thro' nail'd by the ears.
Canto III, line 391
To swallow gudgeons ere they 're catch'd, And count their chickens ere they're hatch'd.
Canto III, line 923
There 's but the twinkling of a star Between a man of peace and war.
Canto III, line 957
But Hudibras gave him a twitch As quick as lightning in the breech, Just in the place where honour's lodg'd, As wise philosophers have judg'd; Because a kick in that part more Hurts honour than deep wounds before.
Canto III, line 1065
Part III (1678)
As men of inward light are wont To turn their optics in upon 't.
Canto I, line 481
Still amorous and fond and billing, Like Philip and Mary on a shilling.
Canto I, line 687
What makes all doctrines plain and clear? About two hundred pounds a year. And that which was prov'd true before Prove false again? Two hundred more.
Canto I, line 1277
The hollow-hearted, disaffected, And close malignant are detected; Who lay their lives and fortunes down, For pledges to secure our own.
'Cause grace and virtue are within Prohibited degrees of kin; And therefore no true saint allows They shall be suffer'd to espouse.
Canto I, line 1293
Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick, Though he gave his name to our Old Nick.
Canto I, line 1313
With crosses, relics, crucifixes, Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes,— The tools of working our salvation By mere mechanic operation.
Canto I, line 1495
True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shin'd upon.
Canto II, line 175
But still his tongue ran on, the less Of weight it bore, with greater ease.
Canto II, line 443
We idly sit, like stupid blockheads, Our hands committed to our pockets, And nothing but our tongues at large, To get the wretches a discharge: Like men condemn'd to thunder-bolts, Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts; Or fools besotted with their crimes, That know not how to shift betimes, And neither have the hearts to stay, Nor wit enough to run away.
For those that fly may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain.
Canto III, line 243
He that complies against his will. Is of his own opinion still.
Canto III, line 547. Sometimes misreported as "is convinced" instead of "complies"; reported in Paul F. Boller, Jr., and John George, They Never Said It: A Book of Fake Quotes, Misquotes, & Misleading Attributions (1989), p. 11
With books and money plac'd for show Like nest-eggs to make clients lay, And for his false opinion pay.