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Presumptuous Man! The Reason Wouldst Thou Find,why Form'd So Weak, So Little, And So Blind?first, If Thou Canst, The Harder Reason Guess,why Form'd No Weaker, Blinder, And No Less!ask Of Thy Mother Earth, Why Oaks Are Madetaller Or Stronger Than The Weeds They Shade?or Ask Of Yonder Argent Fields Above,why Jove's Satellites Are Less Than Jove?

-Alexander Pope

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Presumptuous Man! The Reason

Alexander Pope

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Presumptuous Man! The Reason Wouldst Thou Find,why Form'd So Weak, So Little, And So Blind?first, If Thou Canst, The Harder Reason Guess,why Form'd No Weaker, Blinder, And No Less!ask Of Thy Mother Earth, Why Oaks Are Madetaller Or Stronger Than The Weeds They Shade?or Ask Of Yonder Argent Fields Above,why Jove's Satellites Are Less Than Jove?

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The Scripture In Times Of Disputes Is Like An Open Town In Times Of War, Which Serves In Differently The Occasions Of Both Parties.

A Perfect Woman's But A Softer Man.

Truth Shines The Brighter, Clad In Verse.

True Ease In Writing Comes From Art, Not Chance, As Those Move Easiest Who Have Learned To Dance.

Age And Want Sit Smiling At The Gate.

Wine Works The Heart Up, Wakes The Wit, There Is No Cure 'gainst Age But It

Act Well Your Part, There All The Honour Lies.

But See How Oft Ambition's Aims Are Cross'd, And Chiefs Contend 'til All The Prize Is Lost!

For Forms Of Government, Let Fools Contest; Whate'er Is Best Administered, Is Best.

Luxurious Lobster-nights, Farewell, For Sober, Studious Days!

Truth Needs Not Flowers Of Speech.

When Two People Compliment Each Other With The Choice Of Anything, Each Of Them Generally Gets That Which He Likes Least.

The People's Voice Is Odd, It Is, And It Is Not, The Voice Of God.

Strength Of Mind Is Exercise, Not Rest.

'tis Not Enough Your Counsel Still Be True; Blunt Truths More Mischief Than Nice Falsehoods Do.

Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

Oh, Sons Of Earth! Attempt Ye Still To Rise. By Mountains Pil'd On Mountains To The Skies? Heav'n Still With Laughter The Vain Toil Surveys, And Buries Madmen In The Heaps They Raise.

But Honest Instinct Comes A Volunteer; Sure Never To O'er-shoot, But Just To Hit, While Still Too Wide Or Short In Human Wit.

How Happy Is The Blameless Vestal's Lot? The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot.

Give Me Again My Hollow Tree A Crust Of Bread, And Liberty!

Behold The Child, By Nature's Kindly Law, Pleased With A Rattle, Tickled With A Straw; Some Livelier Plaything Gives His Youth Delight, A Little Louder, But As Empty Quite; Scarfs, Garters, Gold, Amuse His Riper Stage, And Beads And Prayer-books Are The Toys Of Age. Pleased With This Bauble Still, As That Before, Till Tired He Sleeps, And Life's Poor Play Is O'er.

Physicians Are In General The Most Amiable Companions And The Best Friends, As Well As The Most Learned Men I Know.

Such As Are Still Observing Upon Others Are Like Those Who Are Always Abroad At Other Men's Houses, Reforming Everything There While Their Own Runs To Ruin.

I Begin Where Most People End, With A Full Conviction Of The Emptiness Of All Sorts Of Ambition, And The Unsatisfactory Nature Of All Human Pleasures.

One Self-approving Hour Whole Years Outweighs.

The Spider's Touch, How Exquisitely Fine! Feels At Each Thread, And Lives Along The Line.

A Man Who Admires A Fine Woman, Has Yet Not More Reason To Wish Himself Her Husband, Than One Who Admired The Hesperian Fruit, Would Have Had To Wish Himself The Dragon That Kept It.

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.

Of All Affliction Taught A Lover Yet, 'tis True The Hardest Science To Forget.

A Youth Of Frolic, An Old Age Of Cards.

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 Hurled,- The Glory, Jest, And Riddle Of The World.

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

The Right Divine Of Kings To Govern Wrong.

On Wings Of Wind Came Flying All Abroad.

Sleep And Death, Two Twins Of Winged Race, Of Matchless Swiftness, But Of Silent Pace.

The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot. Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind! Each Pray'r Accepted, And Each Wish Resign'd

Superstition Is The Spleen Of The Soul.

Religion Blushing, Veils Her Sacred Fires, And Unawares Morality Expires.

To Wake The Soul By Tender Strokes Of Art, To Raise The Genius, And To Mend The Heart; To Make Mankind, In Conscious Virtue Bold, Live O'er Each Seene, And Be What They Behold: For This The Tragic Muse First Trod The Stage.

Fame Can Never Make Us Lie Down Contentedly On A Deathbed.

To Be Angry Is To Revenge The Faults Of Others On Ourselves.

Beauty That Shocks You, Parts That None Will Trust, Wit That Can Creep, And Pride That Licks The Dust.

There Various News I Heard Of Love And Strife,of Peace And War, Health, Sickness, Death, And Life,of Loss And Gain, Of Famine And Of Store,of Storms At Sea, And Travels On The Shore,of Prodigies, And Portents Seen In Air,of Fires And Plagues, And Stars With Blazing Hair,of Turns Of Fortune, Changes In The State,the Fall Of Favourites, Projects Of The Great,of Aid Mismanagements, Taxations New:all Neither Wholly False, Nor Wholly True.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing.

Trace Science, Then, With Modesty Thy Guide, First Strip Off All Her Equipage Of Pride, Deduct What Is But Vanity Or Dress, Or Learning's Luxury Or Idleness, Or Tricks, To Show The Stretch Of The Human Brain Mere Curious Pleasure Or Ingenious Pain.

Hear How The Birds, On Ev'ry Blooming Spray, With Joyous Musick Wake The Dawning Day.

Whenever I Find A Great Deal Of Gratitude In A Poor Man, I Take It For Granted There Would Be As Much Generosity If He Were A Rich Man.

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?

Our Proper Bliss Depends On What We Blame.

Chaste To Her Husband, Frank To All Beside, A Teeming Mistress, But A Barren Bride.

For Lo! The Board With Cups And Spoons Is Crowned.the Berries Crackle, And The Mill Turns Round ... At Once They Gratify Their Scent And Taste.and Frequent Cups Prolong The Rich Repast... Coffee (which Makes The Politician Wise And See Through All Things With His Half-shut Eyes).

At Present We Can Only Reason Of The Divine Justice From What We Know Of Justice In Man. When We Are In Other Scenes, We May Have Truer And Nobler Ideas Of It; But While We Are In This Life, We Can Only Speak From The Volume That Is Laid Open Before Us.

The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Occupy Yourself

The Villain's Censure Is Extorted Praise.

Death, Only Death, Can Break The Lasting Chain; And Here, Ev'n Then, Shall My Cold Dust Remain

He Knows To Live Who Keeps The Middle State, And Neither Leans On This Side Nor On That.

Genuine Religion Is Not So Much A Matter Of Feeling As A Matter Of Principle.

Tis All In Vain To Keep A Constant Pother About One Vice And Fall Into Another.

How Index-learning Turns No Student Pale, Yet Holds The Eel Of Science By The Tail!

At Length Corruption, Like A General Flood (so Long By Watchful Ministers Withstood), Shall Deluge All; And Avarice, Creeping On, Spread Like A Low-born Mist, And Blot The Sun.

Fly, Dotard, Fly! With Thy Wise Dreams And Fables Of The Sky.

Tis True, 'tis Certain; Man, Though Dead, Retains Part Of Himself; The Immortal Mind Remains.

Love, Hope, And Joy, Fair Pleasure's Smiling Train, Hate, Fear, And Grief, The Family Of Pain, These Mix'd With Art, And To Due Bounds Confin'd Make And Maintain The Balance Of The Mind.

To Him No High, No Low, No Great, No Small; He Fills, He Bounds, Connects And Equals All!

Dear Fatal Name! Rest Ever Unreveal'd, Nor Pass These Lips In Holy Silence Seal'd. Hide It, My Heart, Within That Close Disguise, Where Mixed With Gods, His Lov'd Idea Lies: O Write It Not, My Hand - The Name Appears Already Written - Wash It Out, My Tears! In Vain Lost Eloisa Weeps And Prays, Her Heart Still Dictates, And Her Hand Obeyes.

The Grave Unites; Where E'en The Great Find Rest, And Blended Lie Th' Oppressor And Th' Oppressed!

Drink Is The Feast Of Reason And The Flow Of Soul.

One Science Only Will One Genius Fit; So Vast Is Art, So Narrow Human Wit.

The Lights And Shades, Whose Well-accorded Strife Gives All The Strength And Color Of Our Life.

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Envy, To Which Th' Ignoble Mind's A Slave, Is Emulation In The Learn'd Or Brave.

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Whate'er The Talents, Or Howe'er Designed, We Hang One Jingling Padlock On The Mind.

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Music Resembles Poetry, In Each Are Nameless Graces Which No Methods Teach, And Which A Master Hand Alone Can Reach.

Never Elated While One Man's Oppress'd; Never Dejected While Another's Blessed.

Like Bubbles On The Sea Of Matter Borne, They Rise, They Break, And To That Sea Return.

Education Forms The Common Mind. Just As The Twig Is Bent, The Tree's Inclined.

How Loved, How Honored Once, Avails Thee Not, To Whom Related, Or By Whom Begot A Heap Of Dust Alone Remains Of Thee 'tis All Thou Art, And All The Proud Shall Be!

A Long, Exact, And Serious Comedy; In Every Scene Some Moral Let It Teach, And, If It Can, At Once Both Please And Preach.

But See, The Shepherds Shun The Noonday Heat, The Lowing Herds To Murmuring Brooks Retreat, To Closer Shades The Panting Flocks Remove; Ye Gods! And Is There No Relief For Love?

Learn From The Birds What Food The Thickets Yield; Learn From The Beasts The Physic Of The Field; The Arts Of Building From The Bee Receive; Learn Of The Mole To Plow, The Worm To Weave.

While Man Exclaims, "see All Things For My Use!" "see Man For Mine!" Replies A Pamper'd Goose.

Who Breaks A Butterfly On A Wheel?

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We Ought, In Humanity, No More To Despise A Man For The Misfortunes Of The Mind Than For Those Of The Body, When They Are Such As He Cannot Help; Were This Thoroughly Considered We Should No More Laugh At A Man For Having His Brains Cracked Than For Having His Head Broke.

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.

Simplicity Is The Mean Between Ostentation And Rusticity.

The Sound Must Seem An Echo To The Sense.

But See, Orion Sheds Unwholesome Dews; Arise, The Pines A Noxious Shade Diffuse; Sharp Boreas Blows, And Nature Feels Decay, Time Conquers All, And We Must Time Obey.

Oh! Be Thou Blest With All That Heaven Can Send, Long Health, Long Youth, Long Pleasure-and A Friend.

Sometimes Virtue Starves While Vice Is Fed.

Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Most Fond Of Nature: As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature.

When To Mischief Mortals Bend Their Will, How Soon They Find It Instruments Of Ill.

And More Than Echoes Talk Along The Walls.

Those Move Easiest Who Have Learn'd To Dance.

Whether With Reason, Or With Instinct Blest, Know, All Enjoy That Pow'r Which Suits Them Best.

Whether The Darken'd Room To Muse Invite, Or Whiten'd Wall Provoke The Skew'r To Write; In Durance, Exile, Bedlam, Or The Mint, Like Lee Or Budgel I Will Rhyme And Print.

Some Are Bewildered In The Maze Of Schools, And Some Made Coxcombs Nature Meant But Fools.

As Some To Church Repair, Not For The Doctrine, But The Music There. These Equal Syllables Alone Require, Though Oft The Ear The Open Vowels Tire While Expletives Their Feeble Aid Do Join, And Ten Low Words Oft Creep In One Dull Line.

Fame, Wealth, And Honour! What Are You To Love?

But Would You Sing, And Rival Orpheus' Strain. The Wond'ring Forests Soon Should Dance Again; The Moving Mountains Hear The Powerful Call. And Headlong Streams Hand Listening In Their Fall!

Unthought-of Frailties Cheat Us In The Wise.

The Life Of A Wit Is A Warfare Upon Earth.

Histories Are More Full Of Examples Of The Fidelity Of Dogs Than Of Friends.

To Dazzle Let The Vain Design, To Raise The Thought And Touch The Heart, Be Thine!

Pretty! In Amber To Observe The Forms Of Hairs, Of Straws, Or Dirt, Or Grubs, Or Worms! The Things, We Know, Are Neither Rich Nor Rare, But Wonder How The Devil They Got There.

The Vulgar Boil, The Learned Roast, An Egg.

Let Joy Or Ease, Let Affluence Or Content, And The Gay Conscience Of A Life Well Spent, Calm Ev'ry Thought, Inspirit Ev'ry Grace, Glow In Thy Heart, And Smile Upon Thy Face.

Ask For What End The Heavenly Bodies Shine, Earth For Whose Use? Pride Answers, 'tis For Mine For Me Kind Nature Wakes Her Genial Power, Suckles Each Herb, And Spreads Out Every Flower.

The Enormous Faith Of Many Made For One.

The Finest Minds, Like The Finest Metals, Dissolve The Easiest.

On Life's Vast Ocean Diversely We Sail, Reason The Card, But Passion Is The Gale; Nor God Alone In The Still Calm We Find, He Mounts The Storm, And Walks Upon The Wind.

Men Would Be Angels, Angels Would Be Gods.

A Wise Physician, Skill'd Our Wounds To Heal, Is More Than Armies To The Public Weal.

Lulled In The Countless Chambers Of The Brain, Our Thoughts Are Linked By Many A Hidden Chain; Awake But One, And In, What Myriads Rise!

New, Distant Scenes Of Endless Science Rise: So Pleas'd At First, The Towring Alps We Try.

What Then Remains, But Well Our Power To Use, And Keep Good-humor Still Whate'er We Lose? And Trust Me, Dear, Good-humor Can Prevail, When Airs, And Flights, And Screams, And Scolding Fail.

But Those Who Cannot Write, And Those Who Can, All Rhyme, And Scrawl, And Scribble, To A Man.

Do You Find Yourself Making Excuses When You Do Not Perform? Shed The Excuses And Face Reality. Excuses Are The Loser's Way Out. They Will Mar Your Credibility And Stunt Your Personal Growth.

Finding Yourself

Live Like Yourself, Was Soon My Lady's Word, And Lo! Two Puddings Smok'd Upon The Board.

A Pear-tree Planted Nigh: 'twas Charg'd With Fruit That Made A Goodly Show, And Hung With Dangling Pears Was Every Bough.

See Skulking Truth To Her Old Cavern Fled, Mountains Of Casuistry Heap'd O'er Her Head! Philosophy, That Lean'd On Heav'n Before, Shrinks To Her Second Cause, And Is No More. Physic Of Metaphysic Begs Defence, And Metaphysic Calls For Aid On Sense! See Mystery To Mathematics Fly!

But Touch Me, And No Minister So Sore. Whoe'er Offends, At Some Unlucky Time Slides Into Verse, And Hitches In A Rhyme, Sacred To Ridicule His Whole Life Long, And The Sad Burthen Of Some Merry Song.

Whatever Is, Is Right.

Only Music Has The Ability To Take You To The Edge Of Reality And Allow You To Peek In For A Moment.

The Greatest Magnifying Glasses In The World Are A Man's Own Eyes When They Look Upon His Own Person.

I Have More Zeal Than Wit.

No More The Mounting Larks, While Daphne Sings, Shall, List'ning, In Mid-air Suspend Their Wings.

And All Who Told It Added Something New, And All Who Heard It, Made Enlargements Too.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing; Drink Of It Deeply, Or Taste It Not, For Shallow Thoughts Intoxicate The Brain, And Drinking Deeply Sobers Us Again.

Who Are Next To Knaves? Those That Converse With Them.

What Bosom Beast Not In His Country's Cause?

The Learned Is Happy, Nature To Explore; The Fool Is Happy, That He Knows No More.

Some Old Men, Continually Praise The Time Of Their Youth. In Fact, You Would Almost Think That There Were No Fools In Their Days, But Unluckily They Themselves Are Left As An Example.

The Pure And Noble, The Graceful And Dignified, Simplicity Of Language Is Nowhere In Such Perfection As In The Scriptures And Homer. The Whole Book Of Job, With Regard Both To Sublimity Of Thought And Morality, Exceeds, Beyond All Comparison, The Most Noble Parts Of Homer.

Genius Involves Both Envy And Calumny.

Let Such Teach Others Who Themselves Excel, And Censure Freely Who Have Written Well.

Calm, Thinking Villains, Whom No Faith Could Fix, Of Crooked Counsels And Dark Politics.

What Conscience Dictates To Be Done, Or Warns Me Not To Do; This Teach Me More Than Hell To Shun, That More Than Heav'n Pursue.

Love, Free As Air, At Sight Of Human Ties, Spreads His Light Wings, And In A Moment Flies.

Here Hills And Vales, The Woodland And The Plain Here Earth And Water Seem To Strive Again, Not Chaos-like Together Crushed And Bruised, But, As The World, Harmoniously Confused: Where Order In Variety We See, And Where, Though All Things Differ, All Agree.

The Race By Vigour, Not By Vaunts, Is Won.

Condition, Circumstance, Is Not The Thing; Bliss Is The Same In Subject Or In King.

Most Women Have No Characters At All.

Women, As They Are Like Riddles In Being Unintelligible, So Generally Resemble Them In This, That They Please Us No Longer Once We Know Them.

While I Live, No Rich Or Noble Knave Shall Walk The World In Credit To His Grave.

Vast Chain Of Being! Which From God Began, Natures Ethereal, Human, Angel, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect, What No Eye Can See, No Glass Can Reach, From Infinite To Thee, From Thee To Nothing.

O Happiness! Our Being's End And Aim! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! Whate'er Thy Name: That Something Still Which Prompts The Eternal Sigh, For Which We Bear To Live, Or Dare To Die.

Others Import Yet Nobler Arts From France, Teach Kings To Fiddle, And Make Senates Dance.

Words Are Like Leaves; And Where They Most Abound, Much Fruit Of Sense Beneath Is Rarely Found.

If, Presume Not To God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man. Plac'd On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise, And Rudely Great.

A Gen'rous Heart Repairs A Sland'rous Tongue.

A King Is A Mortal God On Earth, Unto Whom The Living God Hath Lent His Own Name As A Great Honour; But Withal Told Him, He Should Die Like A Man, Lest He Should Be Proud, And Flatter Himself That God Hath With His Name Imparted Unto Him His Nature Also. John Locke, "of A King", The Conduct Of The Understanding: Essays, Moral, Economical, And Political 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.

Where London's Column, Pointing At The Skies, Like A Tall Bully, Lifts The Head, And Lies.

The Worst Of Madmen Is A Saint Run Mad.

O Peace! How Many Wars Were Waged In Thy Name.

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.

Blest Paper-credit! Last And Best Supply! That Lends Corruption Lighter Wings To Fly!

Still Follow Sense, Of Ev'ry Art The Soul, Parts Answering Parts Shall Slide Into A Whole.

Choose A Firm Cloud Before It Fall, And In It Catch, Ere She Change, The Cynthia Of This Minute.

A Wit With Dunces, And A Dunce With Wits.

The Search Of Our Future Being Is But A Needless, Anxious, And Haste To Be Knowing, Sooner Than We Can, What, Without All This Solicitude, We Shall Know A Little Later.

The Season When To Come, And When To Go, To Sing, Or Cease To Sing, We Never Know.

Who Finds Not Providence All Good And Wise, Alike In What It Gives, And What Denies.

And Soften'd Sounds Along The Waters Die: Smooth Flow The Waves, The Zephyrs Gently Play.

Who Sees Pale Mammom Pine Amidst His Store, Sees But A Backward Steward For The Poor.

Reason's Whole Pleasure, All The Joys Of Sense, Lie In Three Words,-health, Peace, And Competence.

They Dream In Courtship, But In Wedlock Wake.

Giving Advice Is Many Times Only The Privilege Of Saying A Foolish Thing One's Self, Under The Pretense Of Hindering Another From Doing One.

The Zeal Of Fools Offends At Any Time.

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.

Trust Not Yourself, But Your Defects To Know, Make Use Of Every Friend And Every Foe.

Be Thou The First True Merit To Befriend, His Praise Is Lost Who Stays Till All Commend.

There Is Nothing That Is Meritorious But Virtue And Friendship.

Be Not The First By Whom The New Are Tried, Nor Yet The Last To Lay The Old Aside.

Thus Let Me Live, Unseen, Unknown, Thus Unlamented Let Me Die, Steal From The World, And Not A Stone Tell Where I Lie.

First Follow Nature, And Your Judgment Frame By Her Just Standard, Which Is Still The Same: Unerring Nature, Still Divinely Bright, One Clear, Unchanged, And Universal Light, Life, Force, And Beauty Must To All Impart, At Once The Source, And End, And Test Of Art.

No Creature Smarts So Little As A Fool.

Devotion's Self Shall Steal A Thought From Heaven.

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fixed, 'tis Fixed As In A Frost.

On Wrongs Swift Vengeance Waits.

And Binding Nature Fast In Fate, Left Free The Human Will.

Not To Go Back Is Somewhat To Advance, And Men Must Walk, At Least, Before They Dance.

It Is Not So Much The Being Exempt From Faults, As Having Overcome Them, That Is An Advantage To Us.

Speed The Soft Intercourse From Soul To Soul, And Waft A Sigh From Indus To The Pole.

All Other Goods By Fortune's Hand Are Given, A Wife Is The Peculiar Gift Of Heaven.

Where Grows?--where Grows It Not? If Vain Our Toil, We Ought To Blame The Culture, Not The Soil.

Passions Are The Gales Of Life.

All Seems Infected That Th' Infected Spy, As All Looks Yellow To The Jaundiced Eye.

A Saint In Crape Is Twice A Saint In Lawn.

All Looks Yellow To The Jaundiced Eye. [and Therefore The Solution Is To Fix The Jaundiced Eye.]

And You, My Critics! In The Chequer'd Shade, Admire New Light Thro' Holes Yourselves Have Made.

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.

What Is It To Be Wise? 'tis But To Know How Little Can Be Known, To See All Others' Faults, And Feel Our Own.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be.

Avoid Extremes; And Shun The Fault Of Such Who Still Are Pleas'd Too Little Or Too Much.

I As Little Fear That God Will Damn A Man That Has Charity, As I Hope That The Priests Can Save One Who Has Not.

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