C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


As no roads are so rough as those that have just been mended, so no sinners are so intolerant as those that have just turned out saints.


  • For virtue’s self may too much zeal be had;
  • The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.
  • Pope.

  • But jest apart what virtue canst thou trace
  • In that broad brim that hides thy sober face?
  • Does that long-skirted drab, that over-nice
  • And formal clothing, prove a scorn of vice?
  • Then for thine accent—what in sound can be
  • So void of grace as dull monotony?
  • Crabbe.

  • In the wicked there’s no vice,
  • Of which the saints have not a spice,
  • And yet that thing that’s pious in
  • The one, in the other is a sin.
  • Is it not ridiculous, and nonsense,
  • A saint should be a slave to conscience?
  • Butler.