No creature smarts so little as a fool.

Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 84.

Destroy his fib or sophistry—in vain!

The creature 's at his dirty work again.

Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 91.

As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,

I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.

Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 127.

Pretty! in amber to observe the forms

Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms![327:1]