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Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below?

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
Suffering
Spirits
Spirit
Page
States
Suffer
Book
Pages
Men
Fate
Heav
Creatures
Prescribed
Present
Hides
State
Brutes

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Where beams of imagination play, the memory's soft figures melt away.
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Good-nature and good-sense must ever join To err is human, to forgive, divine.
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Soft o'er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe, That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath.
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He knows to live who keeps the middle state, and neither leans on this side nor on that.
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With too much quickness ever to be taught With too much thinking to have common thought.
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It often happens that those are the best people whose characters have been most injured by slanderers: as we usually find that to be the sweetest fruit which the birds have been picking at.
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It is very natural for a young friend and a young lover to think the persons they love have nothing to do but to please them.
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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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Whenever I find a great deal of gratitude in a poor man, I take it for granted there would be as much generosity if he were a rich man.
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In men, we various ruling passions find In women, two almost divide the kind Those, only fixed, they first or last obey, The love of pleasure, and the love of sway.
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Sole judge of Truth, in endless Error hurled: / The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
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Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And glittering thoughts struck out at ev'ry line Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit.
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Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
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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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We may see the small value God has for riches, by the people he gives them to.
Alexander Pope
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At length corruption, like a general flood (So long by watchful ministers withstood), Shall deluge all and avarice, creeping on, Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun.
Alexander Pope
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How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?
Alexander Pope
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The lights and shades, whose well-accorded strife gives all the strength and color of our life.
Alexander Pope
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The Right Divine of Kings to govern wrong.
Alexander Pope
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And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
Alexander Pope