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Every woman is at heart a rake.

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
Heart
Every
Rake
Rakes
Intrigue
Woman

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Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
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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I was not born for courts and great affairs, but I pay my debts, believe and say my prayers.
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Dulness! whose good old cause I yet defend, With whom my muse began, with who shall end.
Alexander Pope
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Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon.
Alexander Pope
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Like following life through creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect.
Alexander Pope
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From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.
Alexander Pope
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A king may be a tool, a thing of straw but if he serves to frighten our enemies, and secure our property, it is well enough a scarecrow is a thing of straw, but it protects the corn.
Alexander Pope
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But touch me, and no minister so sore. Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burthen of some merry song.
Alexander Pope
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Here am I, dying of a hundred good symptoms.
Alexander Pope
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Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
Alexander Pope
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Truth shines the brighter, clad in verse.
Alexander Pope
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True self-love and social are the same.
Alexander Pope
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Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.
Alexander Pope
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The blest to-day is as completely so, As who began a thousand years ago.
Alexander Pope
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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!
Alexander Pope
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Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true, But are not critics to their judgment, too?
Alexander Pope
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A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead.
Alexander Pope
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Praise undeserved, is satire in disguise.
Alexander Pope
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Virtue alone is happiness below.
Alexander Pope