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When to mischief mortals bend their will, how soon they find it instruments of ill.

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
Instruments
Soon
Find
Bend
Mischief
Mortals
Ill

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As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.
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The most positive men are the most credulous.
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The dull flat falsehood serves for policy, and in the cunning, truth's itself a lie.
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The flower's are gone when the Fruits appear to ripen.
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To happy convents, bosomed deep in vines, Where slumber abbots, purple as their wines.
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Envy will merit as its shade pursue, But like a shadow, proves the substance true.
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Get your enemy to read your works in order to mend them, for your friend is so much your second self that he will judge too like you.
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Great oaks grow from little acorns. He has a green thumb. He has green fingers. He's sowing his wild oats. Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.
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The pure and noble, the graceful and dignified, simplicity of language is nowhere in such perfection as in the Scriptures and Homer. The whole book of Job, with regard both to sublimity of thought and morality, exceeds, beyond all comparison, the most noble parts of Homer.
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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.
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What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
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The approach of night The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.
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Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?
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For critics, as they are birds of prey, have ever a natural inclination to carrion.
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Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing.
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Oh, when shall Britain, conscious of her claim, Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame? In living medals see her wars enroll'd, And vanquished realms supply recording gold?
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Whate'er the talents, or howe'er designed, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind.
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It is sure the hardest science to forget!
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Genius creates, and taste preserves.
Alexander Pope
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The difference is too nice - Where ends the virtue or begins the vice.
Alexander Pope