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How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot A heap of dust alone remains of thee 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!

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
Thee
Remains
Begot
Proud
Avails
Loved
Heap
Shall
Honored
Alone
Related
Art
Dust
Love
Thou

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend.
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To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart
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Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone, A Page, a Grave, that they can call their own But spread, my sons, your glory thin or thick, On passive paper, or on solid brick.
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Genuine religion is not so much a matter of feeling as a matter of principle.
Alexander Pope
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And soften'd sounds along the waters die: Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play.
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Learn from the birds what food the thickets yield Learn from the beasts the physic of the field The arts of building from the bee receive Learn of the mole to plow, the worm to weave.
Alexander Pope
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O happiness! our being's end and aim! Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy name: That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die.
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The approach of night The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.
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A perfect Judge will read each work of Wit With the same spirit that its author writ: Survey the Whole, nor seek slight faults to find Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind.
Alexander Pope
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Do you find yourself making excuses when you do not perform? Shed the excuses and face reality. Excuses are the loser's way out. They will mar your credibility and stunt your personal growth.
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Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly, When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, When thro' the clouds he drives the trembling doves.
Alexander Pope
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Devotion's self shall steal a thought from heaven.
Alexander Pope
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By music minds an equal temper know, Nor swell too high, nor sink too low. . . . . Warriors she fires with animated sounds. Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds.
Alexander Pope
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Genius creates, and taste preserves.
Alexander Pope
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Time conquers all, and we must time obey.
Alexander Pope
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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
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Fame can never make us lie down contentedly on a deathbed.
Alexander Pope
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Men, some to business, some to pleasure take But every woman is at heart a rake.
Alexander Pope
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Taste, that eternal wanderer, which flies From head to ears, and now from ears to eyes.
Alexander Pope
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Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing.
Alexander Pope