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Wit is the lowest form of humor.

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
Lowest
Wit
Humor
Literature
Form

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.
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A family is but too often a commonwealth of malignants.
Alexander Pope
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Whenever I find a great deal of gratitude in a poor man, I take it for granted there would be as much generosity if he were a rich man.
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Whatever is, is right.
Alexander Pope
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Tis true, 'tis certain man, though dead, retains Part of himself the immortal mind remains.
Alexander Pope
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Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
Alexander Pope
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Of little use, the man you may suppose, Who says in verse what others say in prose Yet let me show a poet's of some weight, And (though no soldier) useful to the state, What will a child learn sooner than a song? What better teach a foreigner the tongue? What's long or short, each accent where to place And speak in public with some sort of grace?
Alexander Pope
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Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty it is not only needless, but it impairs what it would improve.
Alexander Pope
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And make each day a critic on the last.
Alexander Pope
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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.
Alexander Pope
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Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below?
Alexander Pope
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Nature made every fop to plague his brother, Just as one beauty mortifies another.
Alexander Pope
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Trust not yourself, but your defects to know, make use of every friend and every foe.
Alexander Pope
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Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, of straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
Alexander Pope
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New, distant Scenes of endless Science rise: So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try.
Alexander Pope
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But blind to former as to future fate, what mortal knows his pre-existent state?
Alexander Pope
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To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each Seene, and be what they behold: For this the Tragic Muse first trod the stage.
Alexander Pope
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Who combats bravely is not therefore brave, He dreads a death-bed like the meanest slave: Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise,- His pride in reasoning, not in acting lies.
Alexander Pope
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With sharpen'd sight pale Antiquaries pore, Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears The sacred rust of twice ten hundred years.
Alexander Pope
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The meeting points the sacred hair dissever From the fair head, forever, and forever! Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes, And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies.
Alexander Pope