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Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the best.

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
Vigour
Youth
Dies
Death
Best

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Taste, that eternal wanderer, which flies From head to ears, and now from ears to eyes.
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Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us, and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man A mighty maze! but not without a plan.
Alexander Pope
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The cabinets of the sick and the closets of the dead have been ransacked to publish private letters and divulge to all mankind the most secret sentiments of friendship.
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Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon.
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Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
Alexander Pope
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Every professional was once an amateur.
Alexander Pope
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Amusement is the happiness of those who cannot think.
Alexander Pope
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With sharpen'd sight pale Antiquaries pore, Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears The sacred rust of twice ten hundred years.
Alexander Pope
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Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?
Alexander Pope
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Great oaks grow from little acorns. He has a green thumb. He has green fingers. He's sowing his wild oats. Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.
Alexander Pope
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A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
Alexander Pope
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As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.
Alexander Pope
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To Him no high, no low, no great, no small He fills, He bounds, connects and equals all!
Alexander Pope
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Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes.
Alexander Pope
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What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!
Alexander Pope
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No creature smarts so little as a fool.
Alexander Pope
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Party-spirit at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
Alexander Pope
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Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Alexander Pope
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Who dare to love their country, and be poor.
Alexander Pope
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Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, Like Lee or Budgel I will rhyme and print.
Alexander Pope