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Why did I write? whose sin to me unknown Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
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
Child
Fame
Write
Sin
Children
Whose
Writing
Fool
Parents
Numbers
Lisp
Parent
Ink
Came
Unknown
More quotes by Alexander Pope
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot? The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Alexander Pope
Education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.
Alexander Pope
Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labor when the end was rest, Indulged the day that housed their annual grain, With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
Alexander Pope
Wit is the lowest form of humor.
Alexander Pope
Cavil you may, but never criticise.
Alexander Pope
But thousands die without or this or that, Die, and endow a college or a cat.
Alexander Pope
A good-natured man has the whole world to be happy out of.
Alexander Pope
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance.
Alexander Pope
A long, exact, and serious comedy In every scene some moral let it teach, And, if it can, at once both please and preach.
Alexander Pope
The blest to-day is as completely so, As who began a thousand years ago.
Alexander Pope
Superstition is the spleen of the soul.
Alexander Pope
The character of covetousness, is what a man generally acquires more through some niggardliness or ill grace in little and inconsiderable things, than in expenses of any consequence.
Alexander Pope
There goes a saying, and 'twas shrewdly said, ''Old fish at table, but young flesh in bed.
Alexander Pope
No writing is good that does not tend to better mankind in some way or other.
Alexander Pope
With too much quickness ever to be taught With too much thinking to have common thought.
Alexander Pope
Unthought-of Frailties cheat us in the Wise.
Alexander Pope
chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.
Alexander Pope
The season when to come, and when to go, to sing, or cease to sing, we never know.
Alexander Pope
The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read With loads of learned lumber in his head.
Alexander Pope
Ladies, like variegated tulips, show 'Tis to their changes half their charms we owe.
Alexander Pope