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Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.

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
Merit
Praise
Honor
Men
Think
Thinking
Fondly

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe, Are lost on hearers that our merits know.
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Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.
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If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay If I am wrong, O, teach my heart To find that better way!
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Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find two of a face as soon as of a mind.
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Trust not yourself, but your defects to know, make use of every friend and every foe.
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As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.
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Superstition is the spleen of the soul.
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A little learning is a dangerous thing.
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The grave unites where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
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Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
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Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.
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Others import yet nobler arts from France, Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.
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Wine lets no lover unrewarded go.
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Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf, Not one will change his neighbor with himself.
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See how the World its Veterans rewards! A Youth of Frolics, an old Age of Cards Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without Lovers, old without a Friend A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot Alive ridiculous, and dead forgot.
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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!
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The heart resolves this matter in a trice, Men only feel the smart, but not the vice.
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The Dying Christian to His Soul (1712) -Vital spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Stanza 1.
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Eve left Adam, to meet the Devil in private.
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Love the offender, yet detest the offense.
Alexander Pope