Quotes by Alexander Pope

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;Thus unlamented let me die;Steal from the world, and not a stoneTell where I lie.

Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please,With too much spirit to be eer at ease,With too much quickness ever to be taught,With too much thinking to have common thought:You purchase pain with all that joy can give,And die of nothing but a rage to live.

A little learning is a dangerous thing.Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian Spring;There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,and drinking largely sobers us again.

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan,The proper study of mankind is Man.Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,A being darkly wise and rudely great:With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,With too much weakness for the Stoics pride,He hangs between, in doubt to act or rest;In doubt to deem himself a God or Beast;In doubt his mind or body to prefer;Born but to die, and reasning but to err;Alike in ignorance, his reason such,Whether he thinks too little or too much;Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;Still by himself abused or disabused;Created half to rise, and half to fall;Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurld;The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!Go, wondrous creature! mount where science guides,Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides;Instruct the planets in what orbs to run,Correct old time, and regulate the sun;Go, soar with Plato to th’ empyreal sphere,To the first good, first perfect, and first fair;Or tread the mazy round his followers trod,And quitting sense call imitating God;As Eastern priests in giddy circles run,And turn their heads to imitate the sun.Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule—Then drop into thyself, and be a fool!

Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,To raise the genius, and to mend the heart

True Wit is Nature to advantage dressdWhat oft was thought, but neer so well expressd;Something whose truth convinced at sight we find,That gives us back the image of our mind.As shades more sweetly recommend the light,So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit.

The Wit of Cheats, the Courage of a Whore,Are what ten thousand envy and adore:All, all look up, with reverential Awe,At crimes that scape, or triumph oer the Law:While Truth, Worth, Wisdom, daily they decry-`Nothing is sacred now but Villainy- Epilogue to the Satires, Dialogue I

Remembrance and reflection how allied!What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide!

Some who grow dull religious straight commenceAnd gain in morals what they lose in sense.

Music resembles poetry, in eachAre nameless graces which no methods teach,And which a master hand alone can reach.

In pride, in reasoning pride, our error lies;All quit their sphere and rush into the skies.Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes, Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, Aspiring to be angels, men rebel.

Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to seeMen not afraid of God afraid of me.

Next oer his books his eyes began to roll,In pleasing memory of all he stole.

In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;Alike fantastic, if too new, or old:Be not the first by whom the new are tried,Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.

Know thyself, presume not God to scan;The proper study of mankind is man.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. So is a lot.

For he lives twice who can at once employ,The present well, and e’en the past enjoy.

Order is heavens first law.

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.