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Giving advice is many times only the privilege of saying a foolish thing one's self, under the pretense of hindering another from doing one.

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
Saying
Times
Another
Self
Hindering
Many
Pretense
Giving
Foolish
Thing
Privilege
Advice

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
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When to mischief mortals bend their will, how soon they find it instruments of ill.
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No woman ever hates a man for being in love with her, but many a woman hate a man for being a friend to her.
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Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old.
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Then marble, soften'd into life, grew warm.
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New, distant Scenes of endless Science rise: So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try.
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Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends.
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Superstition is the spleen of the soul.
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What bosom beast not in his country's cause?
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What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!
Alexander Pope
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The difference is as great between The optics seeing as the objects seen. All manners take a tincture from our own Or come discolor'd through out passions shown Or fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies, Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes.
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Old politicians chew on wisdom past, And totter on in business to the last.
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Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone, A Page, a Grave, that they can call their own But spread, my sons, your glory thin or thick, On passive paper, or on solid brick.
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Tis all in vain to keep a constant pother About one vice and fall into another.
Alexander Pope
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Ye flowers that drop, forsaken by the spring, Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to sing, Ye trees that fade, when Autumn heats remove, Say, is not absence death to those who love?
Alexander Pope
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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
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I believe no one qualification is so likely to make a good writer, as the power of rejecting his own thoughts.
Alexander Pope
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On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.
Alexander Pope
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On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
Alexander Pope
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And hence one master-passion in the breast, Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.
Alexander Pope