Thomas Nashe

“Grosse plodders they were all, that had some learning and reading, but no wit to make use of it.”

“Had I a ropemaker to my father, and someone had cast it in my teeth, I would forthwith have written in praise of ropemakers, and proved it by sound sillogistry to be one of the seven liberal sciences.”

“I'll be your daily Orator to pray that that pure sanguine complexion of yours may never be famished with pot-lucke, that you may taste till your last gasp, and live to see the confusion of both your special enemies, Small Beer and Grammar rules.”

“There is not a room in anie mans house, but is pestred and close packed with a camp royeale of divels.”

“What is Logicke but the highe waie to wrangling, contayning in it a world of bibble babble. Need we anie of your Greek, Latine, Hebrue, or anie such gibbrage, when we have the word of God in English?”

“Incomprehensible is the height of your spirit both in heroical resolution and matters of conceit. Unreprievably perishes that book whatsoever to wastepaper, which on the diamond rock of your judgement disasterly chances to be shipwrecked. A dear lover and cherisher you are, as well of the lovers of Poets, as of Poets themselves. Amongst their sacred number I dare not ascribe myself, though now and then I speak English: that small brain I have to no further use I convert, save to be kind to my friends and fatal to my enemies. A new brain, a new wit, a new style, a new soul will I get me, to canonize your name to posterity, if in this my first attempt I be not taxed of presumption.”

“[N]othing is more odious to the auditor, than the artless tongue of a tedious dolt, which dulls the delight of hearing, and slacketh the desire of remembering.”