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Let fortune do her worst, whatever she makes us lose, so long as she never makes us lose our honesty and our independence.

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
Loses
Worst
Whatever
Inspirational
Makes
Independence
Long
Honesty
Never
Fortune
Lose

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye.
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These riches are possess'd, but not enjoy'd!
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Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
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I am his Highness' dog at Kew Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
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A disputant no more cares for the truth than the sportsman for the hare.
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Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn, And liquid amber drop from every thorn.
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Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell, For sober, studious days!
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Pleasure, or wrong or rightly understood, Our greatest evil, or our greatest good.
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The race by vigour, not by vaunts, is won.
Alexander Pope
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Sleep and death, two twins of winged race, Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace.
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And write about it, Goddess, and about it!
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On wrongs swift vengeance waits.
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A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.
Alexander Pope
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If, presume not to God to scan The proper study of Mankind is Man. Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state, a being darkly wise, and rudely great.
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Vice is a monster of so frightful mien As to be hated needs but to be seen Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
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Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
Alexander Pope
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All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. [and therefore the solution is to fix the jaundiced eye.]
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Vast chain of being! which from God began, Natures ethereal, human, angel, man, Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach, from infinite to Thee, From Thee to nothing.
Alexander Pope
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Tis true, 'tis certain man, though dead, retains Part of himself the immortal mind remains.
Alexander Pope
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Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, Like Lee or Budgel I will rhyme and print.
Alexander Pope