Alexander Pope was a poet and translator from England who lived from 1688 to 1744 and is often regarded as one of the greatest literary figures in the history of English literature. Pope had to endure several health scares throughout his childhood but he continued to write and in 1709, his work Pastorals was published that made him a household name in literary circles shortly after. Two years later, he wrote An Essay on Criticism that was also a hit among the audiences. Some of his most noted works include ‘An Essay on Man’, ‘An Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady’, ‘The Temple of Fame: A Vision’, ‘Windsor Forest’, ‘Messiah’, ‘The Duncaid’ and ‘An Essay on Criticism’ among others. On the other hand, he was an accomplished linguist, who translated two of the greatest epics in Greek literature, ‘Iliad’ and ‘Oddysey’, into English. Pope was also responsible for having made extensive use of the heroic couplet in his works and that had made him one of the most quotable authors in the history of the English language. According to The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, he stands second only to William Shakespeare in terms of frequency. Here are some of his notable quotes.
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d
Alexander Pope
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. So is a lot.
Alexander Pope
A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong, which is but saying in other words that he is wiser today than he was yesterday.
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.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest.
The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Alexander Pope
Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound,
Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Alexander Pope
And die of nothing but a rage to live
Alexander Pope
All Nature is but art, unknown to thee
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good.
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.
Alexander Pope
Man never thinks himself happy, but when he enjoys those things which others want or desire.
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
The world forgetting by the world forgot.
Alexander Pope
Order is heaven's first law.
Alexander Pope
Chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.
Alexander Pope
What dire offence from am'rous causes springs,
What mighty contests rise from trivial things,...
Alexander Pope
Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool.
But you yourself may prove to show it,
Every fool is not a poet.
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.
Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labor when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
Alexander Pope
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not critics to their judgment, too?
Alexander Pope
All forms that perish other forms supply,
(By turns we catch the vital breath and die)
Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne,
They rise, they break, and to that sea return.
Alexander Pope
Know thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of mankind is man.
Some who grow dull religious straight commence
And gain in morals what they lose in sense.
Alexander Pope
Remembrance and reflection how allied!
What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide!
Alexander Pope
Then most our trouble still when most admired,
And still the more we give, the more required;
Whose fame with pains we guard, but lose with ease,
Sure some to vex, but never all to please.
The Dying Christian to His Soul (1712)
-Vital spark of heav'nly flame!
Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Stanza 1.
Averse alike to flatter, or offend;
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.
Alexander Pope
Philosophy, that leaned on Heaven before,
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
Alexander Pope
No place so scared from such frops is barred
Nor is Paul's Church more safe than Paul's Churchyard
Na fly to alter there they'll talk you dead
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
How vain are all these Glories, all our Pains,
Unless good Sense preserve what Beauty gains:
That Men may say, when we the Front-box grace,
Behold the first in Virtue, as in Face!
Alexander Pope
Sure flattery never traveled so far as three thousand miles; it is now only for truth, which over takes all things, to reach you at this distance.
To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
Alexander Pope
Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew:
Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too.
Alexander Pope
Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day,
Charm'd the small-pox, or chased old age away;
Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce,
Or who would learn one earthly thing of use?
Alexander Pope
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
All this dread order break- for whom? for thee?
Vile worm!- oh madness! pride! impiety!
Alexander Pope
Trust not yourself; but your defects to know,
Make use of ev'ry friend—and ev'ry foe.
Alexander Pope
Know thy own point: this kind, this due degree
Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee.
Alexander Pope
Las palabras son como las hojas; cuando abundan, poco fruto hay entre ellas.
Alexander Pope
Inscriptions here of various Names I view'd,
The greater part by hostile time subdu'd;
Yet wide was spread their fame in ages past,
And Poets once had promis'd they should last.
Where beams of imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away.
Alexander Pope
Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of Sense,
Lie in three words, Health, Peace, and Competence.
But Health consists with Temperance alone,
And Peace, oh Virtue! Peace is all thy own.
Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne,
They rise, they break, and to that sea return. )
-Vital spark of heav'nly flame!
Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Stanza 1. )
