Alexander Pope Quotes (535 Quotes)


    Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art, No language, but the language of the heart.

    Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.

    Extremes in nature equal ends produce; In man they join to some mysterious use.


    Some old men, continually praise the time of their youth. In fact, you would almost think that there were no fools in their days, but unluckily they themselves are left as an example.


    She who neer answers till a husband cools, Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules Charms by accepting, by submitting, sways, Yet has her humor most, when she obeys.

    For sure such courage length of life denies,
    And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice.

    Ye gods annihilate but space and time. And make two lovers happy.

    Unhappy Wit, like most mistaken Things,
    Attones not for that Envy which it brings.

    'Twixt that, and reason, what a nice barrier;
    For ever sep'rate, yet for ever near!

    Learn to live well, or fairly make your will You've played, and loved, and ate, and drunk your fill Walk sober off before a sprightlier age Comes tittering on, and shoves you from the stage.

    Oh teach me nature to subdue,
    Renounce my love, my life, myself--and you.


    Say first, of God above, or man below,
    What can we reason, but from what we know?

    Some people are commended for a giddy kind of good humor, which is no more a virtue than drunkenness.


    In lazy apathy let stoics boast Their virtue fix'd 't is fix'd as in a frost Contracted all, retiring to the breast But strength of mind is exercise, not rest.

    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.


    At every trifle take offense, that always shows great pride or little sense.

    Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne, They rise, they break, and to that sea return.

    The people' voice is odd, It is, and it is not, the voice of God.

    The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.

    Thou know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame,
    When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name;
    My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,
    Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind.

    A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price tag has been left.

    Like following life through creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect.

    Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.

    Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.

    Blest paper-credit last and best supply; That lends corruption lighter wings to fly.

    Then, at the last and only couplet fraught With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.

    Dear, damned, distracting town, farewell Thy fools no more I'll tease This year in peace, ye critics, dwell, Ye harlots, sleep at ease.

    Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
    And let me languish into life.

    True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, as those who move easiest have learned to dance.

    Waller was smooth but Dryden taught to join The varying verse, the full-resounding line, The long majestic march, and energy divine.

    Authors are partial to their Wit, 'tis true,
    But are not Criticks to their Judgment too?




    Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its Ruins spread,
    Shakes off the Dust, and rears his rev'rend Head!

    Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound,
    Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.

    Dip in the Rainbow, trick her off in Air;
    Choose a firm Cloud, before it fall, and in it
    Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.

    On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.

    True Wit is nature to advantage dressed, What oft was thought, bet ne'er so well expressed.

    Virtuous and vicious everyone must be few in extremes, but all in degree.

    Yes, I am proud I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me.

    But blind to former as to future fate, what mortal knows his pre-existent state?

    Fire in each eye and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.

    Ambition first sprung from your bless'd abodes; The glorious fault of angels and of gods.

    In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies;
    All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies.

    Atossa, curs'd with ev'ry granted pray'r,
    Childless with all her Children, wants an Heir.


    Related Authors


    Edgar Allan Poe - William Somerville - Thomas Middleton - Sylvia Plath - John Betjeman - Hesiod - Euripides - Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Edward Young - A. E. Housman


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