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The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.

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
Insanity
Mad
Saint
Worst
Running
Madmen
Fanaticism

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Chaste to her husband, frank to all beside, A teeming mistress, but a barren bride.
Alexander Pope
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Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
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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To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, who never mentions hell to ears polite.
Alexander Pope
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On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
Alexander Pope
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What so pure, which envious tongues will spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair, With matchless impudence they style a wife, The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, A night invasion, and a mid-day devil Let not the wise these sland'rous words regard, But curse the bones of ev'ry living bard.
Alexander Pope
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How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense, and love the offender, yet detest the offence?
Alexander Pope
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Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style, Amaze th' unlearn'd and make the learned smile.
Alexander Pope
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Never elated when someone's oppressed, never dejected when another one's blessed.
Alexander Pope
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To the Elysian shades dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.
Alexander Pope
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All nature is but art unknown to thee.
Alexander Pope
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Death, only death, can break the lasting chain And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain
Alexander Pope
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See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
Alexander Pope
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Age and want sit smiling at the gate.
Alexander Pope
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Music resembles poetry, in each Are nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master hand alone can reach.
Alexander Pope
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Women, as they are like riddles in being unintelligible, so generally resemble them in this, that they please us no longer once we know them.
Alexander Pope
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The hog that ploughs not, not obeys thy call, Lives on the labours of this lord of all.
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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There is but one way I know of conversing safely with all men that is, not by concealing what we say or do, but by saying or doing nothing that deserves to be concealed.
Alexander Pope
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And binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will.
Alexander Pope