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Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

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
Break
Upon
Satirist
Sense
Satire
Feel
Wheel
Feels
Alas
Butterfly
Breaks
Wheels

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If it be the chief point of friendship to comply with a friends motions and inclinations, he possesses this in a eminent degree he lies down when I sit, and walks when I walk, which is more than many good friends can pretend to do.
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He who serves his brother best gets nearer God than all the rest.
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No creature smarts so little as a fool.
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Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n.
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When much dispute has past, we find our tenets just the same as last.
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Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words,-health, peace, and competence.
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The learned is happy, nature to explore The fool is happy, that he knows no more.
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See how the World its Veterans rewards! A Youth of Frolics, an old Age of Cards Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without Lovers, old without a Friend A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot Alive ridiculous, and dead forgot.
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Tis use alone that sanctifies expense And splendor borrow all her rays from sense.
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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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Lo! The poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind.
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The greatest magnifying glasses in the world are a man's own eyes when they look upon his own person.
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Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
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To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
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Heaven gave to woman the peculiar grace To spin, to weep, and cully human race.
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Lo! the poor Indian! whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind His soul proud Science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk or milky way.
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The way of the Creative works through change and transformation, so that each thing receives its true nature and destiny and comes into permanent accord with the Great Harmony: this is what furthers and what perseveres.
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O let us still the secret joy partake, To follow virtue even for virtue's sake.
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It is not so much the being exempt from faults, as having overcome them, that is an advantage to us.
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Our plenteous streams a various race supply, The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye, The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd, The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with gold, Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
Alexander Pope