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Virtuous and vicious every man must be, few in the extreme, but all in the degree.

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
Extreme
Extremes
Degree
Degrees
Virtue
Must
Fanaticism
Every
Vicious
Men
Virtuous

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall And universal darkness buries all.
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Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.
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The life of a wit is a warfare upon earth.
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Some praise at morning what they blame at night, but always think the last opinion right.
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Die of a rose in aromatic pain.
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As some to church repair, Not for the doctrine, but the music there. These equal syllables alone require, Though oft the ear the open vowels tire While expletives their feeble aid do join, And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.
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Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
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Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
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Of fight or fly, This choice is left ye, to resist or die.
Alexander Pope
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There should be, methinks, as little merit in loving a woman for her beauty as in loving a man for his prosperity both being equally subject to change.
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O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes.
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Man, like the generous vine, supported lives the strength he gains is from the embrace he gives.
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Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing.
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The lot of man - to suffer and to die.
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What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy, Is virtue's prize.
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.
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Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn.
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Nor Fame I slight, nor her favors call.
Alexander Pope
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Interspersed in lawn and opening glades, Thin trees arise that shun each others' shades.
Alexander Pope
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You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage to live.
Alexander Pope