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There still remains to mortify a wit The many-headed monster of the pit.

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
Monster
Wit
Monsters
Remains
Acting
Mortify
Stills
Pits
Still
Many
Headed

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Mankind is unamendable.
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A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.
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To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise.
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Of little use, the man you may suppose, Who says in verse what others say in prose Yet let me show a poet's of some weight, And (though no soldier) useful to the state, What will a child learn sooner than a song? What better teach a foreigner the tongue? What's long or short, each accent where to place And speak in public with some sort of grace?
Alexander Pope
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Oh, when shall Britain, conscious of her claim, Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame? In living medals see her wars enroll'd, And vanquished realms supply recording gold?
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But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat, The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat, To closer shades the panting flocks remove Ye gods! And is there no relief for love?
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Who finds not Providence all good and wise, Alike in what it gives, and what denies.
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Learn of the little nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.
Alexander Pope
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A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.
Alexander Pope
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Genius creates, and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius without taste, genius is only sublime folly.
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Fine sense and exalted sense are not half so useful as common sense.
Alexander Pope
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Who sees pale Mammom pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the poor.
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I have more zeal than wit.
Alexander Pope
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Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.
Alexander Pope
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What is it to be wise? 'Tis but to know how little can be known, To see all others' faults, and feel our own.
Alexander Pope
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How Instinct varies in the grov'ling swine.
Alexander Pope
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What then remains, but well our power to use, And keep good-humor still whate'er we lose? And trust me, dear, good-humor can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.
Alexander Pope
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Know then this truth, enough for man to know virtue alone is happiness below.
Alexander Pope
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Then, at the last and only couplet fraught With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
Alexander Pope
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Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land? All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
Alexander Pope