Alexander Pope Quotes

Did some more sober critics come abroad? If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the rod.

They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend.

Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?

Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.

Here am I, dying of a hundred good symptoms.

The most positive men are the most credulous, since they most believe themselves, and advise most with their falsest flatterer and worst enemy--their own self-love.

And make each day a critic on the last.

Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, and fills up all the mighty void of sense.

The laughers are a majority.

The greatest magnifying glasses in the world are a man's own eyes when they look upon his own person.

False happiness is like false money; it passes for a time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss.

The enormous faith of many made for one.

Simplicity is the mean between ostentation and rusticity.

If, presume not to God to scan; The proper study of Mankind is Man. Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state, a being darkly wise, and rudely great.

See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled, Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head! Philosophy, that lean'd on Heav'n before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! See Mystery to Mathematics fly!

Dogs, ye have had your day!

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.

No Senses stronger than his brain can bear. Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly: What the advantage, if his finer eyes Study a Mite, not comprehend the Skies?... Or quick Effluvia darting thro' his brain, Die of a Rose, in Aromatic pain? If Nature thunder'd in his opening ears, And stunn'd him with the music of the Spheres... Who finds not Providence all-good and wise, Alike in what it gives, and what denies?

Be thou the first true merit to befriend, his praise is lost who stays till all commend.

An atheist is but a mad, ridiculous derider of piety, but a hypocrite makes a sober jest of God and religion; he finds it easier to be upon his knees than to rise to a good action.

No craving void left aching in the soul.

The same ambition can destroy or save, and make a patriot as it makes a knave.

Avoid Extremes; and shun the fault of such Who still are pleas'd too little or too much.

The zeal of fools offends at any time.

Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell; aspiring to be angels men rebel.

Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?

Wit in conversation is only a readiness of thought and a facility of expression, or a quick conception and an easy delivery.

Oh, blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle mark'd by heaven.

Fly, dotard, fly! With thy wise dreams and fables of the sky.

On cold December fragrant chaplets blow, And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.

True disputants are like true sportsmen: their whole delight is in the pursuit.

A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.

Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven.

Curse on all laws but those which love has made.

An excuse is worse and more terrible than a lie; for an excuse is a lie guarded.

Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.

The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.

I as little fear that God will damn a man that has charity, as I hope that the priests can save one who has not.

The Dying Christian to His Soul (1712) -Vital spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Stanza 1.

The character of covetousness, is what a man generally acquires more through some niggardliness or ill grace in little and inconsiderable things, than in expenses of any consequence.

Wit and judgment often are at strife.

Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style, Amaze th' unlearn'd and make the learned smile.

Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon.

How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?

Hope springs eternal.

All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye.

The world is a thing we must of necessity either laugh at or be angry at; if we laugh at it, they say we are proud; if we are angry at it, they say we are ill-natured.