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True politeness consists in being easy one's self, and in making every one about one as easy as one can.
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
Manners
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Making
Easy
True
Self
Politeness
Every
Courtesy
Consists
More quotes by Alexander Pope
Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, and fills up all the mighty void of sense.
Alexander Pope
Jarring interests of themselves create the according music of a well-mixed state.
Alexander Pope
With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want?-She wants a heart.
Alexander Pope
Learning is like mercury, one of the most powerful and excellent things in the world in skillful hands in unskillful, the most mischievous.
Alexander Pope
Nothing can be more shocking and horrid than one of our kitchens sprinkled with blood, and abounding with the cries of expiring victims or with the limbs of dead animals scattered or hung up here and there.
Alexander Pope
If faith itself has different dresses worn, What wonder modes in wit should take their turn?
Alexander Pope
Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows.
Alexander Pope
Taste, that eternal wanderer, which flies From head to ears, and now from ears to eyes.
Alexander Pope
Oh, sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise. By mountains pil'd on mountains to the skies? Heav'n still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.
Alexander Pope
See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
Alexander Pope
Genius creates, and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius without taste, genius is only sublime folly.
Alexander Pope
Expression is the dress of thought, and still Appears more decent as more suitable A vile conceit in pompous words express'd, Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd.
Alexander Pope
Is it, in Heav'n, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender or too firm a heart, To act a lover's or a Roman's part? Is there no bright reversion in the sky For those who greatly think, or bravely die?
Alexander Pope
Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are fluttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go. O never fear, lads, naught's to dread, Look not to left nor right: In all the endless road you tread There's nothing but the night.
Alexander Pope
Is there a parson much bemused in beer, a maudlin poetess, a rhyming peer, a clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, who pens a stanza when he should engross?
Alexander Pope
Ah! why, ye Gods, should two and two make four?
Alexander Pope
Nor in the critic let the man be lost.
Alexander Pope
Never find fault with the absent.
Alexander Pope
Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.
Alexander Pope
Virtue alone is happiness below.
Alexander Pope