Alexander Pope Quotes
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True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
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Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes; The glorious fault of Angels and of Gods.
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I find myself just in the same situation of mind you describe as your own, heartily wishing the good, that is the quiet of my country, and hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
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The flying Rumours gather'd as they roll'd, Scarce any Tale was sooner heard than told; And all who told it, added something new, And all who heard it, made Enlargements too, In ev'ry Ear it spread, on ev'ry Tongue it grew.
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Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clam'rous lapwings feel the leaden death; Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare, They fall, and leave their little lives in air.
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Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
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Vital spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
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Proud Nimrod first the bloody chase began A mighty hunter, and his prey was man.
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Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd, But as the world, harmoniously confus'd, Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree.
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Know, sense, like charity, begins at home.
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I think a good deal may be said to extenuate the fault of bad Poets. What we call a Genius, is hard to be distinguish'd by a man himself, from a strong inclination: and if his genius be ever so great, he can not at first discover it any other way, than by giving way to that prevalent propensity which renders him the more liable to be mistaken.
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Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground.
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Each finding like a friendSomething to blame, and something to commend.
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'Boast not my fall (he cried), insulting foe! Thou by some other shalt be laid as low; Nor think to die dejects my lofty mind; All that I dread is leaving you behind! Rather than so, ah let me still survive, And burn in Cupid's flames - but burn alive.'
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Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon.
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Sir Plume, of amber snuff-box justly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded cane.
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Say, is not absence death to those who love?
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I think it was a generous thought, and one that fow'd from an exalted mind, that it was not improbable but God might be delighted with the various methods of worshipping him, which divided the whole world.
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Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown; O grant an honest fame, or grant me none!
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'Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed' was the ninth Beatitude which a man of wit (who, like a man of wit, was a long time in gaol) added to the eighth.
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What beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
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From old Belerium to the northern main.
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Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.
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The world recedes; it disappears! Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring! Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?