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Expression is the dress of thought.

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
Dress
Dresses
Expression
Thought

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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While man exclaims, See all things for my use! See man for mine! replies a pamper'd goose.
Alexander Pope
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Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, Is emulation in the learn'd or brave.
Alexander Pope
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I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
Alexander Pope
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The grave unites where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
Alexander Pope
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A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
Alexander Pope
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Nothing is more certain than much of the force as well as grace, of arguments or instructions depends their conciseness.
Alexander Pope
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I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Alexander Pope
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Say, will the falcon, stooping from above, Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove? Admires the jay the insect's gilded wings? Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings?
Alexander Pope
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Love, Hope, and Joy, fair pleasure's smiling train, Hate, Fear, and Grief, the family of pain, These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd Make and maintain the balance of the mind.
Alexander Pope
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Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame, Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame, Averse alike to flatter or offend, Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.
Alexander Pope
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Learn of the little nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.
Alexander Pope
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Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the best.
Alexander Pope
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A long, exact, and serious comedy In every scene some moral let it teach, And, if it can, at once both please and preach.
Alexander Pope
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Know then, unnumber'd Spirits round thee fly, The light Militia of the lower sky.
Alexander Pope
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Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away . . . . To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.
Alexander Pope
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Die of a rose in aromatic pain.
Alexander Pope
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Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
Alexander Pope
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Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?
Alexander Pope
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Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
Alexander Pope
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Presumptuous Man! the reason wouldst thou find,Why form'd so weak, so little, and so blind?First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess,Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no less!Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are madeTaller or stronger than the weeds they shade?Or ask of yonder argent fields above,Why Jove's Satellites are less than Jove?
Alexander Pope