English - Poet | May 21, 1688 - May 30, 1744
Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest.
Alexander Pope
HopeManNeverHumanAlwaysSprings
And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but the truth in a masquerade.
TruthLieMasqueradeAfterTis
Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell; aspiring to be angels men rebel.
BestMenPrideRebelAngelsWould
I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
MyselfBestEndUnhappyMadnessFew
Wit is the lowest form of humor.
HumorWitLowestFormLowest Form
Our passions are like convulsion fits, which, though they make us stronger for a time, leave us the weaker ever after.
TimeStrongerLeaveUsPassionsOur
The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg.
EggBoilRoastVulgarLearned
To observations which ourselves we make, we grow more partial for th' observer's sake.
GrowMoreMakeObserverOurselves
'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do.
EnoughBe TrueNiceTrueMoreBlunt
Act well your part, there all the honour lies.
ActWellLiesYourPartHonour
Those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
DanceMoveWhoThoseEasiest
Fondly we think we honor merit then, When we but praise ourselves in other men.
MenThinkHonorPraiseMeritThen
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