Alexander Pope Quotes
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Be silent always when you doubt your Sense.
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Ye Gods! annihilate but space and time, And make two lovers happy.
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Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, And beauty draws us with a single hair.
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Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law, Or some frail China jar receive a flaw, Or stain her honour, or her new brocade, Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade.
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Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade, Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade: Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs shall rise, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
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A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state. While Cato gives his little senate laws, What bosom beats not in his country's cause?
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This casket India's glowing gems unlocks And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.
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How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot; A heap of dust alone remains of thee; 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
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Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call; She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.
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Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn, And liquid amber drop from every thorn.
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Histories are more full of Examples of the Fidelity of dogs than of Friends.
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Let not this weak, unknowing hand Presume Thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land On each I judge Thy foe.
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By foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed, By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed, By foreign hands thy humble grave adorned, By strangers honored, and by strangers mourned.
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Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay.
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He who tells a lie, is not sensible how great a task he undertakes; for he must be forced to invent twenty more to maintain that one.
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Teach me to feel another's woe, To right the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
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Here am I, dying of a hundred good symptoms.
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At every word a reputation dies.
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Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night: God said, 'Let Newton be!' and all was light.
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To endeavour to work upon the vulgar with fine sense, is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.
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How vast a memory has Love!
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But when mischief mortals bend their will, How soon they find fit instruments of ill!
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Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
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Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride! They had no poet, and they died. In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled! They had no poet, and are dead.