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Wretches hang that jurymen may dine.

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
Wretches
Dine
Hang
Law
May

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Who finds not Providence all good and wise, Alike in what it gives, and what denies.
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Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
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A man who admires a fine woman, has yet not more reason to wish himself her husband, than one who admired the Hesperian fruit, would have had to wish himself the dragon that kept it.
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Learn to live well, or fairly make your will You've play'd, and lov'd, and ate, and drank your fill: Walk sober off, before a sprightlier age Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage.
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Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
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Passions are the gales of life.
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The scripture in times of disputes is like an open town in times of war, which serves in differently the occasions of both parties.
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All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye.
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I begin where most people end, with a full conviction of the emptiness of all sorts of ambition, and the unsatisfactory nature of all human pleasures.
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Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide,Or gave his father grief but when he died.
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Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing.
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Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.
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They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
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When rumours increase, and when there is an abundance of noise and clamour, believe the second report.
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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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There are some solitary wretches who seem to have left the rest of mankind, only, as Eve left Adam, to meet the devil in private.
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But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain. The wond'ring forests soon should dance again The moving mountains hear the powerful call. And headlong streams hand listening in their fall!
Alexander Pope
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Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
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To dazzle let the vain design, To raise the thought and touch the heart, be thine!
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The laughers are a majority.
Alexander Pope