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Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.

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
Make
Cursed
Men
Verses
Tends
Worthy
Flow
Friendship
Wells
Foe
Well
Verse

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Where's the man who counsel can bestow, still pleased to teach, and yet not proud to know.
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Search then the ruling passion: This clue, once found, unravels all the rest.
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Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty it is not only needless, but it impairs what it would improve.
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Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, Is emulation in the learn'd or brave.
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This long disease, my life.
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Such as are still observing upon others are like those who are always abroad at other men's houses, reforming everything there while their own runs to ruin.
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A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.
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Sleep and death, two twins of winged race, Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace.
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You beat your Pate, and fancy Wit will come: Knock as you please, there's no body at home.
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Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy to catch me, just at dinner-time.
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He best can paint them who shall feel them most.
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chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.
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And make each day a critic on the last.
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Passions are the gales of life.
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Interspersed in lawn and opening glades, Thin trees arise that shun each others' shades.
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What is it to be wise? 'Tis but to know how little can be known, To see all others' faults, and feel our own.
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Man never thinks himself happy, but when he enjoys those things which others want or desire.
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Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.
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From Nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.
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The grave unites where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
Alexander Pope