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Lo! The poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind.

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
Clouds
God
Whose
Wind
Poor
Untutored
Mind
Hears
Indian
Sees

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye that habitually compares everything to something better. But by changing that habit to comparing everything to something worse, even making it a game, that person can find gratitude, relief and happiness where-ever they go and whatever they experience, guaranteed!
Alexander Pope
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All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.
Alexander Pope
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At length corruption, like a general flood (So long by watchful ministers withstood), Shall deluge all and avarice, creeping on, Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun.
Alexander Pope
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All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. [and therefore the solution is to fix the jaundiced eye.]
Alexander Pope
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To the Elysian shades dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.
Alexander Pope
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Two purposes in human nature rule. Self- love to urge, and reason to restrain.
Alexander Pope
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All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye.
Alexander Pope
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All nature is but art unknown to thee.
Alexander Pope
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What Tully said of war may be applied to disputing: It should be always so managed as to remember that the only true end of it is peace. But generally true disputants are like true sportsmen,--their whole delight is in the pursuit and the disputant no more cares for the truth than the sportsman for the hare.
Alexander Pope
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The mouse that always trusts to one poor hole Can never be a mouse of any soul.
Alexander Pope
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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
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The only time you run out of chances is when you stop taking them
Alexander Pope
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Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And glittering thoughts struck out at ev'ry line Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit.
Alexander Pope
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At ev'ry word a reputation dies.
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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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 good must merit God's peculiar care But who but God can tell us who they are?
Alexander Pope
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Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
Alexander Pope
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And more than echoes talk along the walls.
Alexander Pope
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The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd
Alexander Pope