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There is nothing that is meritorious but virtue and friendship.
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
Friendship
Virtue
Nothing
Meritorious
More quotes by Alexander Pope
Who are next to knaves? Those that converse with them.
Alexander Pope
He who tells a lie is not sensible of how great a task he undertakes for he must be forced to invent twenty more to maintain that one.
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The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
Alexander Pope
Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part.
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'Tis not enough your counsel still be true Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do.
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We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.
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Hope springs eternal.
Alexander Pope
Heaven breathes thro' ev'ry member of the whole One common blessing, as one common soul.
Alexander Pope
Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing.
Alexander Pope
What Reason weaves, by Passion is undone.
Alexander Pope
Tis true, 'tis certain man, though dead, retains Part of himself the immortal mind remains.
Alexander Pope
Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.
Alexander Pope
Find, if you can, in what you cannot change. Manners with fortunes, humours turn with climes, Tenets with books, and principles with times.
Alexander Pope
Give me again my hollow tree A crust of bread, and liberty!
Alexander Pope
Whenever I find a great deal of gratitude in a poor man, I take it for granted there would be as much generosity if he were a rich man.
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So upright Quakers please both man and God.
Alexander Pope
Every woman is at heart a rake.
Alexander Pope
No writing is good that does not tend to better mankind in some way or other.
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What so pure, which envious tongues will spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair, With matchless impudence they style a wife, The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, A night invasion, and a mid-day devil Let not the wise these sland'rous words regard, But curse the bones of ev'ry living bard.
Alexander Pope
Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit, There is no cure 'gainst age but it
Alexander Pope