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O happiness! our being's end and aim! Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy name: That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die.

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
Happiness
Gratitude
Sigh
Ends
Eternity
Cheer
Stills
Bears
Appreciation
Still
Eternal
Aim
Whate
Live
Name
Ease
Joyfulness
Something
Names
Content
Prompts
Good
Pleasure
Dare
Thankfulness
Dies
Bear
Cheerfulness

More quotes by 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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Of darkness visible so much be lent, as half to show, half veil, the deep intent.
Alexander Pope
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Fools admire, but men of sense approve.
Alexander Pope
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On wings of wind came flying all abroad.
Alexander Pope
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To observations which ourselves we make, we grow more partial for th' observer's sake.
Alexander Pope
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For forms of government, let fools contest Whate'er is best administered, is best.
Alexander Pope
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And write about it, Goddess, and about it!
Alexander Pope
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See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled, Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head! Philosophy, that lean'd on Heav'n before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! See Mystery to Mathematics fly!
Alexander Pope
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To endeavor to work upon the vulgar with fine sense is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.
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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A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal, is more than armies to the public weal.
Alexander Pope
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O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes.
Alexander Pope
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See! From the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings Short is his joy! He feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Alexander Pope
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Amusement is the happiness of those who cannot think.
Alexander Pope
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That character in conversation which commonly passes for agreeable is made up of civility and falsehood.
Alexander Pope
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The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
Alexander Pope
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Tis all in vain to keep a constant pother About one vice and fall into another.
Alexander Pope
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Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!
Alexander Pope
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In men, we various ruling passions find In women, two almost divide the kind Those, only fixed, they first or last obey, The love of pleasure, and the love of sway.
Alexander Pope
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Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words,-health, peace, and competence.
Alexander Pope