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The heart resolves this matter in a trice, Men only feel the smart, but not the vice.

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
Matter
Feel
Feels
Heart
Resolves
Men
Vice
Resolve
Vices
Smart

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Chiefs who no more in bloody fights engage, But wise through time, and narrative with age, In summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice - A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.
Alexander Pope
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Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell aspiring to be angels men rebel.
Alexander Pope
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In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?
Alexander Pope
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You beat your Pate, and fancy Wit will come: Knock as you please, there's no body at home.
Alexander Pope
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A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead.
Alexander Pope
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Pretty conceptions, fine metaphors, glittering expressions, and something of a neat cast of verse are properly the dress, gems, or loose ornaments of poetry.
Alexander Pope
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It is not so much the being exempt from faults, as having overcome them, that is an advantage to us.
Alexander Pope
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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.
Alexander Pope
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Intestine war no more our passions wage, And giddy factions bear away their rage.
Alexander Pope
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In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend.
Alexander Pope
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The same ambition can destroy or save, and make a patriot as it makes a knave.
Alexander Pope
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Count all th' advantage prosperous Vice attains, 'Tis but what Virtue flies from and disdains: And grant the bad what happiness they would, One they must want--which is, to pass for good.
Alexander Pope
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And more than echoes talk along the walls.
Alexander Pope
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Monuments, like men, submit to fate.
Alexander Pope
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But touch me, and no minister so sore. Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burthen of some merry song.
Alexander Pope
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Dulness! whose good old cause I yet defend, With whom my muse began, with who shall end.
Alexander Pope
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Like following life through creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect.
Alexander Pope
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Who builds a church to God and not to fame, Will never mark the marble with his name.
Alexander Pope
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What so pure, which envious tongues will spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair, With matchless impudence they style a wife, The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, A night invasion, and a mid-day devil Let not the wise these sland'rous words regard, But curse the bones of ev'ry living bard.
Alexander Pope
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Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.
Alexander Pope