Quotes

Alexander Pope quotes
Ode on Solitude
Happy the man, whose wish and
care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native
air,
In his own ground.
Whose heards with milk, whose
fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with
attire,
Whose trees in summer yield
him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest! who can unconcern'dly
find
Hours, days, and years slide
soft away,
In health of body, peace of
mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and
ease
Together mix'd; sweet
recreation,
And innocence, which most
does please,
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen,
unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a
stone
Tell where I lye.
To err is human, to forgive, divine.
Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism
Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.
Alexander Pope
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
Alexander Pope, The Rape of the Lock
How happy is the blameless vestals lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless
mind!
Each prayr accepted, and each wish
resignd
Alexander Pope, Eloisa to Abelard

What Reason weaves, by Passion is undone.
Alexander Pope, Essay on Man and Other Poems
Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please,
With too much spirit to be e'er at ease,
With too much quickness ever to be taught,
With too much thinking to have common thought:
You purchase pain with all that joy can give,
And die of nothing but a rage to live.
Alexander Pope, Moral Essays
A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong,
which is but saying in other words that he is wiser today than he was
yesterday.
Alexander Pope
A little learning is a dangerous thing.
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian Spring;
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
and drinking largely sobers us again.
Act well your part; there all the honour lies.
Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan,
The proper study of mankind is Man.
Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,
He hangs between, in doubt to act or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God or Beast;

In doubt his mind or body to prefer;
Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little or too much;
Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;
Still by himself abused or disabused;
Created half to rise, and half to fall;
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl'd;
The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
If you want to know what God thinks about money just look at the people
He gives it to.
Alexander Pope
You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage
to live.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll;
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound,
Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest.
The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they
understand everything too soon.
Alexander Pope, Miscellanies in Verse and Prose. by Alexander Pope,
Esq; And Dean Swift. in One Volume. Viz. the Strange and Deplorable
Frensy of Mr. John Dennis. ... Epitaph on Francis Ch-Is. Soldier and Scholar.
with Several More Epigrams, Epitaphs, and Poems.
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Alexander Pope
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,

As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain
Our judgments, like our watches, none
go just alike, yet each believes his own
If I am right, Thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, O, teach my heart
To find that better way!
To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart
Alexander Pope
No woman ever hates a man
for being in love with her;:
but mainly a woman hates a
man for being her friend.
Alexander Pope
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
All Nature is but art, unknown to thee
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good.
And die of nothing but a rage to live
Alexander Pope
Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends.
Alexander Pope, Letters of the Late Alexander Pope, Esq. to a Lady.
Never Before Published
Man never thinks himself happy, but when he enjoys those things which
others want or desire.
Alexander Pope
True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd
What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd;
Something whose truth convinced at sight we find,
That gives us back the image of our mind.
As shades more sweetly recommend the light,
So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit.
Nature and Nature's laws lay
hid in night:
God said, Let Newton be! and
all was light.

:
, !

Alexander Pope
I am his Highness' dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
Alexander Pope
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgement, and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is PRIDE, the never-failing vice of fools.
Alexander Pope
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep.
Music resembles poetry, in each
Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a master hand alone can reach.
Whatever is, is right.
Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.
An honest man's the noblest work of God
chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.

The Wit of Cheats, the Courage of
a Whore,
Are what ten thousand envy and
adore:
All, all look up, with reverential
Awe,
At crimes that 'scape, or triumph
o'er the Law:
While Truth, Worth, Wisdom, daily
they decry-`
'Nothing is sacred now but Villainy'
,
,

:
, , ,
,
:
, , ,
-`

'
- Epilogue to the Satires, Dialogue I

Alexander Pope
Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mixed with Gods, his lov'd idea lies:
O write it not, my hand - the name appears
Already written - wash it out, my tears!
In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,
Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeyes.
What dire offence from am'rous causes springs,
What mighty contests rise from trivial things,...
This long disease, my life.
Alexander Pope, Epistles and Satires of Alexander Pope
Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be,
In every work regard the writer's end,
Since none can compass more than they intend;
And if the means be just, the conduct true,
Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
All forms that perish other forms supply,
(By turns we catch the vital breath and die)
Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne,
They rise, they break, and to that sea return.
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,

But are not critics to their judgment, too?
In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;
Alike fantastic, if too new, or old:
Be not the first by whom the new are tried,
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labor when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
Alexander Pope, Imitations of Horace
Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,
Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide:
If to her share some female errors fall,
Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
Order is heaven's first law.
The world forgetting by the world forgot.
A little learning is a dangerous thing.
Alexander Pope
While pensive poets painful vigils keep,
Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep.
Alexander Pope, The Dunciad
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.
An excuse is worse and more terrible than a lie;for an excuse is a lie
guarded
Alexander Pope
No woman ever hates a man for being in love with her; but many a
woman hates a man for being her friend.
Alexander Pope
Brevity is the soul of wit.

Alexander Pope, Poetry and Prose of Alexander Pope
Know thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of mankind is man.
Alexander Pope
A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price
tag has been left.
Alexander Pope
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.
Alexander Pope, Poetry and Prose of Alexander Pope
All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good.
And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, 'Whatever is, is right.
Alexander Pope
Then most our trouble still when most admired,
And still the more we give, the more required;
Whose fame with pains we guard, but lose with ease,
Sure some to vex, but never all to please.
Men, some to business take, some to pleasure take; but every woman is
at heart a rake
No place so scared from such frops is barred
Nor is Paul's Church more safe than Paul's Churchyard
Na fly to alter there they'll talk you dead
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Alexander Pope
Philosophy, that leaned on Heaven before,
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
Happy the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.
Alexander Pope
Some who grow dull religious straight commence
And gain in morals what they lose in sense.
Alexander Pope, Minor Poems
Averse alike to flatter, or offend;
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.
For he lives twice who can at once employ,
The present well, and een the past enjoy.
Alexander Pope
Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see
Men not afraid of God afraid of me.
Alexander Pope
Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew:
Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too.
Alexander Pope
For forms of Government let fools contest. Whate'er is best administered
is best.
Alexander Pope
tags: alexander, government, political, politics, pope
For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, His can't be wrong whose
life is in the right.
Poetic justice, with her lifted scale,
Where, in nice balance, truth with gold she weighs,
And solid pudding against empty praise.
Here she beholds the chaos dark and deep,
Where nameless somethings in their causes sleep,
Till genial Jacob, or a warm third day,
Call forth each mass, a poem, or a play:
How hints, like spawn, scarce quick in embryo lie,
How new-born nonsense first is taught to cry.
Some judge of authors' names, not works, and then nor praise nor blame
the writings, but the men.
What conscience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do,
This, teach me more than Hell to shun,
That, more than Heaven pursue.
Alexander Pope
Remembrance and reflection how allied!
What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide!
Sure flattery never traveled so far as three thousand miles; it is now only
for truth, which over takes all things, to reach you at this distance.
Alexander Pope
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
Alexander Pope, Poems Collected
True wit is nature to advantage dressed, What oft was thought, but ne'er
so well expressed.
Alexander Pope
Let Sporus tremble "What? that thing of silk,
Sporus, that mere white curd of ass's milk?
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a Butterfly upon a Wheel?"
Yet let me flap this Bug with gilded wings,
This painted Child of Dirt that stinks and stings;
Whose Buzz the Witty and the Fair annoys,
Yet Wit ne'er tastes, and Beauty ne'er enjoys,
Alexander Pope
One science only will one genius fit/ So vast is art, so narrow human wit
Alexander Pope
True wit is nature to advantage dress'd,
What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd.
Alexander Pope, Essay on Criticism: Edited with Introduction and Notes
So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky;
Th'eternal snows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last:
But those attain'd, we tremble to survey
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way;
Th'increasing prospect tires our wand'ring eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise!
True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd

What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd.
Alexander Pope, Essay on Man
If it be the chief point of friendship to comply with a friend's notions and
inclinations he possesses this is an eminent degree; he lies down when I
sit, and walks when I walk, which is more that many good friends can
pretend to do.
Alexander Pope
The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, and wretches hang that
jurymen may dine.
Alexander Pope, The Rape of Locke and Other Poems
Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound,
Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.
False Eloquence, like the Prismatic Glass,
Its gawdy Colours spreads on evry place;
The Face of Nature was no more Survey,
All glares alike, without Distinction gay:
But true Expression, like th unchanging Sun,
Clears, and improves whateer it shines upon,
It gilds all Objects, but it alters none.
Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool.
But you yourself may prove to show it,
Every fool is not a poet.
Alexander Pope
Jangan gembira kalau seseorang ditindas,
Jangan kesal kalau seseorang mendapat berkah.
Alexander Pope
Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day,
Charm'd the small-pox, or chased old age away;
Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce,
Or who would learn one earthly thing of use?
Alexander Pope
Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear, with ev'ry bead I drop too soft a
tear...
Alexander Pope
For when success a lover's toil attends,
Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends
Alexander Pope
Las palabras son como las hojas; cuando abundan, poco fruto hay entre
ellas.
Alexander Pope
Out with it, Dunciad: let the secret pass That secret to each fool - that he's an ass.
The truth once told (and whereby should we lie?),
The queen of Midas slept, and so may I.
You think this cruel? Take it for a rule,
No creature smarts so little as a fool.
Alexander Pope, An Epistle from Mr. Pope, to Dr. Arbuthnot.
We may see the small Value God has for Riches, by the People he gives
them to."
[Thoughts on Various Subjects, 1727]
Alexander Pope, The Prose Works of Alexander Pope
All this dread order break- for whom? for thee?
Vile worm!- oh madness! pride! impiety!
Alexander Pope
Know thy own point: this kind, this due degree
Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee.
Alexander Pope
No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;
Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!
Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,
Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.
Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign;
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!)
Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!
Alexander Pope
Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole.
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state,(28)
A being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest,
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer,
Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;

Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much:
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus'd;
Still by himself abus'd, or disabus'd;
Created half to rise, and half to fall;
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;
Sole judge of Truth, in endless Error hurl'd:
The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
Alexander Pope, Essay on Man
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of Fate,
All but the page prescrib'd, their present state;
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:
Or who could suffer Being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy Reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n;
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall.
Alexander Pope
To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
Alexander Pope
Where beams of imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away.
Alexander Pope
Celia"
Celia, we know, is sixty-five,
Yet Celia's face is seventeen;
Thus winter in her breast must live,
While summer in her face is seen.
How cruel Celia's fate, who hence
Our heart's devotion cannot try;
Too pretty for our reverence,
Too ancient for our gallantry!

Alexander Pope
In pride, in reasoning pride, our error lies;
All quit their sphere and rush into the skies.
Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes,
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell,
Aspiring to be angels, men rebel.
Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man & Satires
Consult the genius of the place in all;
That tells the waters or to rise, or fall;
Or helps th' ambitious hill the heav'ns to scale,
Or scoops in circling theatres the vale;
Calls in the country, catches opening glades,
Joins willing woods, and varies shades from shades,
Now breaks, or now directs, th' intending lines;
Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs.
Alexander Pope

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Alexander Pope quotes

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

Alexander Pope, Eloisa to Abelard

In doubt to deem himself a God or Beast;

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,

chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.

- Epilogue to the Satires, Dialogue I

Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,

Brevity is the soul of wit.

Happy the man, whose wish and care

What conscience dictates to be done,

True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd

Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err;

Too ancient for our gallantry!

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