Top 500 Alexander Pope Quotes (2023 Update)
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151. “A perfect woman’s but a softer man.”

— Alexander Pope

152. “There still remains to mortify a wit The many-headed monster of the pit.”

— Alexander Pope

153. “Lo, what huge heaps of littleness around!”

— Alexander Pope

154. “Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn, And liquid amber drop from every thorn.”

— Alexander Pope

155. “Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.”

— Alexander Pope

156. “In death a hero, as in life a friend!”

— Alexander Pope

157. “I lose my patience, and I own it too, When works are censur’d, not as bad but new; While if our Elders break all reason’s laws, These fools demand not pardon but Applause.”

— Alexander Pope

158. “The fool is happy that he knows no more.”

— Alexander Pope

159. “The most positive men are the most credulous.”

— Alexander Pope

160. “How vast a memory has Love!”

— Alexander Pope

161. “On wings of wind came flying all abroad.”

— Alexander Pope

162. “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

163. “Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.”

— Alexander Pope

164. “Who know but He, whose hand the lightning forms, Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms, Pours fierce ambition in a Caesar’s mind.”

— Alexander Pope

165. “A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.”

— Alexander Pope

166. “No louder shrieks to pitying heaven are cast, When husbands or lap-dogs breathe their last.”

— Alexander Pope

167. “Oh, blindness to the future! kindly giv’n, That each may fill the circle mark’d by heaven.”

— Alexander Pope

168. “And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances and the public show.”

— Alexander Pope

169. “Two purposes in human nature rule. Self- love to urge, and reason to restrain.”

— Alexander Pope

170. “Satire’s my weapon, but I’m too discreet to run amok and tilt at all I meet.”

— Alexander Pope

171. “Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me.”

— Alexander Pope

172. “In faith and hope the world will disagree, but all mankind’s concern is charity.”

— Alexander Pope

173. “Some praise at morning what they blame at night, but always think the last opinion right.”

— Alexander Pope

174. “Drink is the feast of reason and the flow of soul.”

— Alexander Pope

175. “Man, like the generous vine, supported lives; the strength he gains is from the embrace he gives.”

— Alexander Pope

176. “Say first, of god above or man below; what can we reason but from what we know.”

— Alexander Pope

177. “Our judgments, like our watches, none go just alike, yet each believes his own.”

— Alexander Pope

178. “Beauty draws us with a single hair.”

— Alexander Pope

179. “The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleas’d to the last he crops the flow’ry food, And licks the hand just rais’d to shed his blood.”

— Alexander Pope

180. “What’s fame? a fancy’d life in other’s breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.”

— Alexander Pope

181. “Monuments, like men, submit to fate.”

— Alexander Pope

182. “Eye Nature’s walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can, But vindicate the ways of God to man.”

— Alexander Pope

183. “Die of a rose in aromatic pain.”

— Alexander Pope

184. “Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And glittering thoughts struck out at ev’ry line; Pleas’d with a work where nothing’s just or fit; One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit.”

— Alexander Pope

185. “Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar; Wait the great teacher, Death, and God adore; What future bliss He gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.”

— Alexander Pope

186. “Music resembles poetry, in each Are nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master hand alone can reach.”

— Alexander Pope

187. “Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well.”

— Alexander Pope

188. “See how the World its Veterans rewards! A Youth of Frolics, an old Age of Cards; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without Lovers, old without a Friend; A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot; Alive ridiculous, and dead forgot.”

— Alexander Pope

189. “The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.”

— Alexander Pope

190. “Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, serv’d no private end, Who gain’d no title, and who lost no friend.”

— Alexander Pope

191. “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

192. “In men, we various ruling passions find; In women, two almost divide the kind Those, only fixed, they first or last obey, The love of pleasure, and the love of sway.”

— Alexander Pope

193. “Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.”

— Alexander Pope

194. “A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.”

— Alexander Pope

195. “Expression is the dress of thought, and still Appears more decent as more suitable; A vile conceit in pompous words express’d, Is like a clown in regal purple dress’d.”

— Alexander Pope

196. “Of darkness visible so much be lent, as half to show, half veil, the deep intent.”

— Alexander Pope

197. “Lo! the poor Indian! whose untutor’d mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; His soul proud Science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk or milky way.”

— Alexander Pope

198. “Blest paper-credit! last and best supply! That lends corruption lighter wings to fly!”

— Alexander Pope

199. “The people’s voice is odd, It is, and it is not, the voice of God.”

— Alexander Pope

200. “What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!”

— Alexander Pope