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Whate'er the talents, or howe'er designed, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind.

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
Designed
Hang
Talent
Padlocks
Mind
Padlock
Jingling
Howe
Whate
Talents

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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Heaven gave to woman the peculiar grace To spin, to weep, and cully human race.
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A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
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Dear, damned, distracting town, farewell! Thy fools no more I'll tease: This year in peace, ye critics, dwell, Ye harlots, sleep at ease!
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Mark what unvary'd laws preserve each state, Laws wise as Nature, and as fixed as Fate.
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Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
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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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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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One self-approving hour whole years outweighs.
Alexander Pope
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Thus unlamented pass the proud away, The gaze of fools and pageant of a day So perish all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow For others' good, or melt at others' woe.
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Of all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgement, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is PRIDE, the never-failing vice of fools.
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You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage to live.
Alexander Pope
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Court-virtues bear, like gems, the highest rate, Born where Heav'n influence scarce can penetrate. In life's low vale, the soil the virtues like, They please as beauties, here as wonders strike.
Alexander Pope
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'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.
Alexander Pope
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No craving void left aching in the soul.
Alexander Pope
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With the mistake your life goes in reverse. Now you can see exactly what you did Wrong yesterday and wrong the day before And each mistake leads back to something worse.
Alexander Pope
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Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate.
Alexander Pope
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Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
Alexander Pope
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Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us, and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man A mighty maze! but not without a plan.
Alexander Pope
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Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
Alexander Pope
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Fortune in men has some small diff'rence made, One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade, The cobbler apron'd, and the parson gown'd, The friar hooded, and the monarch crown'd.
Alexander Pope