Quotes
Quotes - Pope
Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends.
The doubtful beam long nods from side to side.
Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly, When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky; Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, When thro' the clouds he drives the trembling doves.
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
And solid pudding against empty praise.
"Pray take them, Sir,--Enough's a Feast; Eat some, and pocket up the rest."
One solid dish his week-day meal affords, An added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's.
"Live like yourself," was soon my lady's word, And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.
"An't it please your Honour," quoth the Peasant, "This same Desset is not so pleasant: Give me again my hollow Tree, A Crust of Bread, and Liberty."
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
'Tis education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin'd.
Whether with Reason, or with Instinct blest, Know, all enjoy that pow'r which suits them best.
Envy will merit as its shade pursue, But like a shadow, proves the substance true.
Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, Is emulation in the learn'd or brave.
Some positive persisting fops we know, Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so; But you with pleasure own your errors past, And make each day a critique on the last.
Blessed is he who expects nothing for he shall never be disappointed.
Say, will the falcon, stooping from above, Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove? Admires the jay the insect's gilded wings? Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings?
When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day, Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away.
The difference is as great between The optics seeing as the objects seen. All manners take a tincture from our own; Or come discolor'd through out passions shown; Or fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies, Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes.
Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
The glorious fault of angels and of gods.
Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
Pleas'd to the last he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire.
By flatterers besieged And so obliging that he ne'er obliged.
