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Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
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
Saint
Paint
Grow
Grows
Charmer
Whether
Charmers
Must
Sinner
Folly
Romantic
More quotes by Alexander Pope
So modern 'pothecaries, taught the art By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part, Bold in the practice of mistaken rules, Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
Alexander Pope
Fix'd like a plant on his peculiar spot, To draw nutrition, propagate and rot.
Alexander Pope
No more was seen the human form divine.
Alexander Pope
Thus God and nature linked the gen'ral frame, And bade self-love and social be the same.
Alexander Pope
New, distant Scenes of endless Science rise: So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try.
Alexander Pope
Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
Alexander Pope
Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, Is emulation in the learn'd or brave.
Alexander Pope
True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd Something whose truth convinced at sight we find, That gives us back the image of our mind. As shades more sweetly recommend the light, So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit.
Alexander Pope
Calm, thinking villains, whom no faith could fix, Of crooked counsels and dark politics.
Alexander Pope
Who sees pale Mammom pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the poor.
Alexander Pope
When to mischief mortals bend their will, how soon they find it instruments of ill.
Alexander Pope
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
Nothing can be more shocking and horrid than one of our kitchens sprinkled with blood, and abounding with the cries of expiring victims or with the limbs of dead animals scattered or hung up here and there.
Alexander Pope
Old politicians chew on wisdom past, And totter on in business to the last.
Alexander Pope
Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
Alexander Pope
Dulness! whose good old cause I yet defend, With whom my muse began, with who shall end.
Alexander Pope
And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air.
Alexander Pope
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
Alexander Pope
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
Gentle dullness ever loves a joke.
Alexander Pope
