Quote

Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!

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
Hidden
Chains
Lulled
Awake
Myriads
Rise
Chambers
Thoughts
Countless
Memories
Chamber
Brain
Chain
Many
Linked

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Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
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She went from opera, park, assembly, play, To morning walks, and prayers three hours a day. To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.
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Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.
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Genuine religion is not so much a matter of feeling as a matter of principle.
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While man exclaims, See all things for my use! See man for mine! replies a pamper'd goose.
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Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
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There are certain times when most people are in a disposition of being informed, and 'tis incredible what a vast good a little truth might do, spoken in such seasons.
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A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.
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The world is a thing we must of necessity either laugh at or be angry at if we laugh at it, they say we are proud if we are angry at it, they say we are ill-natured.
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Unblemish'd let me live or die unknown Oh, grant an honest fame, or grant me none!
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But just disease to luxury succeeds, And ev'ry death its own avenger breeds.
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The grave unites where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
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The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.
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Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clamtrous 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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Reason, however able, cool at best, Cares not for service, or but serves when prest, Stays till we call, and then not often near.
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Gentle dullness ever loves a joke.
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How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?
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A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
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Mark what unvary'd laws preserve each state, Laws wise as Nature, and as fixed as Fate.
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Some are bewildered in the maze of schools, And some made coxcombs nature meant but fools.
Alexander Pope