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For forms of faith let graceless zealots fight his can't be wrong whose life is in the right.

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
Form
Zealots
Right
Zealot
Life
Forms
Whose
Fight
Fighting
Wrong
Faith
Graceless

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.
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Order is Heaven's first law and this confessed, some are, and must be, greater than the rest, more rich, more wise but who infers from hence that such are happier, shocks all common sense. Condition, circumstance, is not the thing bliss is the same in subject or in king.
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Every man has just as much vanity as he wants understanding.
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Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
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Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
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Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend.
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Be thou the first true merit to befriend, his praise is lost who stays till all commend.
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The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd
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The heart resolves this matter in a trice, Men only feel the smart, but not the vice.
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Pleas'd look forward, pleas'd to look behind,And count each birthday with a grateful mind.
Alexander Pope
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To the Elysian shades dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.
Alexander Pope
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I would not be like those Authors, who forgive themselves some particular lines for the sake of a whole Poem, and vice versa a whole Poem for the sake of some particular lines. I believe no one qualification is so likely to make a good writer, as the power of rejecting his own thoughts.
Alexander Pope
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Virtue, I grant you, is an empty boast But shall the dignity of vice be lost?
Alexander Pope
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Virtue may choose the high or low degree, 'Tis just alike to virtue, and to me Dwell in a monk, or light upon a king, She's still the same belov'd, contented thing.
Alexander Pope
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What Reason weaves, by Passion is undone.
Alexander Pope
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Then, at the last and only couplet fraught With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
Alexander Pope
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Fine sense and exalted sense are not half so useful as common sense.
Alexander Pope
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The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg.
Alexander Pope
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Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
Alexander Pope
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And not a vanity is given in vain.
Alexander Pope