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A youth of frolic, an old age of cards.
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
Frolic
Cards
Youth
Age
More quotes by Alexander Pope
Search then the ruling passion: This clue, once found, unravels all the rest.
Alexander Pope
There should be, methinks, as little merit in loving a woman for her beauty as in loving a man for his prosperity both being equally subject to change.
Alexander Pope
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance.
Alexander Pope
They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
Alexander Pope
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss.
Alexander Pope
To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise.
Alexander Pope
All nature is but art unknown to thee.
Alexander Pope
And write about it, Goddess, and about it!
Alexander Pope
Trust not yourself, but your defects to know, make use of every friend and every foe.
Alexander Pope
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
Alexander Pope
A disputant no more cares for the truth than the sportsman for the hare.
Alexander Pope
Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part.
Alexander Pope
A gen'rous heart repairs a sland'rous tongue.
Alexander Pope
Wine lets no lover unrewarded go.
Alexander Pope
The enormous faith of many made for one.
Alexander Pope
There is nothing that is meritorious but virtue and friendship.
Alexander Pope
It is observable that the ladies frequent tragedies more than comedies the reason may be, that in tragedy their sex is deified and adored, in comedy exposed and ridiculed.
Alexander Pope
In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?
Alexander Pope
The grave unites where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
Alexander Pope
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below?
Alexander Pope