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Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild In Wit a man Simplicity, a child.

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
Simplicity
Child
Children
Mild
Men
Affections
Wit
Manners
Gentle
Affection

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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A field of glory is a field for all.
Alexander Pope
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Eve left Adam, to meet the Devil in private.
Alexander Pope
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Calm, thinking villains, whom no faith could fix, Of crooked counsels and dark politics.
Alexander Pope
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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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Therefore they who say our thoughts are not our own because they resemble the Ancients, may as well say our faces are not our own, because they are like our Fathers: And indeed it is very unreasonable, that people should expect us to be Scholars, and yet be angry to find us so.
Alexander Pope
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The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read With loads of learned lumber in his head.
Alexander Pope
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Where beams of imagination play, the memory's soft figures melt away.
Alexander Pope
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To Him no high, no low, no great, no small He fills, He bounds, connects and equals all!
Alexander Pope
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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.
Alexander Pope
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The scripture in times of disputes is like an open town in times of war, which serves in differently the occasions of both parties.
Alexander Pope
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Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true, But are not critics to their judgment, too?
Alexander Pope
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Some praise at morning what they blame at night, but always think the last opinion right.
Alexander Pope
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For critics, as they are birds of prey, have ever a natural inclination to carrion.
Alexander Pope
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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
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Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are fluttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go. O never fear, lads, naught's to dread, Look not to left nor right: In all the endless road you tread There's nothing but the night.
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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Who pants for glory, finds but short repose A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows.
Alexander Pope
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A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal, is more than armies to the public weal.
Alexander Pope
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Fine sense and exalted sense are not half so useful as common sense. There are forty men of wit for one man of sense and he that will carry nothing about him but gold, will be every day at a loss for want of readier change.
Alexander Pope
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'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.
Alexander Pope