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Some old men, continually praise the time of their youth. In fact, you would almost think that there were no fools in their days, but unluckily they themselves are left as an example.
Alexander Pope
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Alexander Pope
Age: 56 †
Born: 1688
Born: May 21
Died: 1744
Died: May 30
Literary Historian
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the City
Pope the Poet
Alexander I Pope
Alexander
I Pope
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More quotes by Alexander Pope
In death a hero, as in life a friend!
Alexander Pope
Never elated when someone's oppressed, never dejected when another one's blessed.
Alexander Pope
Of fight or fly, This choice is left ye, to resist or die.
Alexander Pope
Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild In Wit a man Simplicity, a child.
Alexander Pope
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.
Alexander Pope
Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
Alexander Pope
What riches give us let us then inquire: Meat, fire, and clothes. What more? Meat, clothes, and fire. Is this too little?
Alexander Pope
Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes.
Alexander Pope
Sickness is a sort of early old age it teaches us a diffidence in our earthly state.
Alexander Pope
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.
Alexander Pope
Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
Alexander Pope
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?
Alexander Pope
A good-natured man has the whole world to be happy out of.
Alexander Pope
But touch me, and no minister so sore. Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burthen of some merry song.
Alexander Pope
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
Alexander Pope
For what I have publish'd, I can only hope to be pardon'd but for what I have burned, I deserve to be prais'd.
Alexander Pope
Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, Like Lee or Budgel I will rhyme and print.
Alexander Pope
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
In vain sedate reflections we would make When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take.
Alexander Pope
Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, and fills up all the mighty void of sense.
Alexander Pope