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Act well your part, there all the honour lies.

Alexander Pope

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Alexander Pope
Age: 56 †
Born: 1688
Born: May 21
Died: 1744
Died: May 30
Literary Historian
Poet
Translator
the City
Pope the Poet
Alexander I Pope
Alexander
I Pope
Part
Wells
Well
Deceit
Honour
Theatre
Lies
Honor
Lying

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
Alexander Pope
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The season when to come, and when to go, to sing, or cease to sing, we never know.
Alexander Pope
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There are some solitary wretches who seem to have left the rest of mankind, only, as Eve left Adam, to meet the devil in private.
Alexander Pope
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With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want?-She wants a heart.
Alexander Pope
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Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Alexander Pope
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Love the offender, yet detest the offense.
Alexander Pope
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And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
Alexander Pope
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To teach vain Wits that Science little known, T' admire Superior Sense, and doubt their own!
Alexander Pope
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Go, wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense weigh thy opinion against Providence.
Alexander Pope
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Most women have no characters at all.
Alexander Pope
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Who are next to knaves? Those that converse with them.
Alexander Pope
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True self-love and social are the same.
Alexander Pope
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Whatever is, is right.
Alexander Pope
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Homer excels all the inventors of other arts in this: that he has swallowed up the honor of those who succeeded him.
Alexander Pope
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Health consists with temperance alone.
Alexander Pope
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Whate'er the talents, or howe'er designed, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind.
Alexander Pope
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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 hurled,- The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.
Alexander Pope
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Music resembles poetry, in each Are nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master hand alone can reach.
Alexander Pope
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Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, Is emulation in the learn'd or brave.
Alexander Pope
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In various talk th' instructive hours they past, Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes At every word a reputation dies.
Alexander Pope