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Die of a rose in aromatic pain.

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
Aromatic
Rose
Dies
Pain

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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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
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A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows.
Alexander Pope
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At present we can only reason of the divine justice from what we know of justice in man. When we are in other scenes, we may have truer and nobler ideas of it but while we are in this life, we can only speak from the volume that is laid open before us.
Alexander Pope
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When we are young, we are slavishly employed in procuring something whereby we may live comfortably when we grow old and when we are old, we perceive it is too late to live as we proposed.
Alexander Pope
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For forms of government, let fools contest Whate'er is best administered, is best.
Alexander Pope
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A little learning is a dangerous thing drink of it deeply, or taste it not, for shallow thoughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking deeply sobers us again.
Alexander Pope
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Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
Alexander Pope
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Whatever is, is right.
Alexander Pope
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Never elated when someone's oppressed, never dejected when another one's blessed.
Alexander Pope
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What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
Alexander Pope
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Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd. Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where mixed with Gods, his lov'd idea lies: O write it not, my hand - the name appears Already written - wash it out, my tears! In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays, Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeyes.
Alexander Pope
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Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Alexander Pope
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The finest minds, like the finest metals, dissolve the easiest.
Alexander Pope
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Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows.
Alexander Pope
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Oh! be thou blest with all that Heaven can send, Long health, long youth, long pleasure-and a friend.
Alexander Pope
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Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old.
Alexander Pope
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Who are next to knaves? Those that converse with them.
Alexander Pope
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Alas! the small discredit of a bribe Scarce hurts the lawyer, but undoes the scribe.
Alexander Pope
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No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings, Shall, list'ning, in mid-air suspend their wings.
Alexander Pope
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Vast chain of being! which from God began, Natures ethereal, human, angel, man, Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach, from infinite to Thee, From Thee to nothing.
Alexander Pope