Quotes to inspire and reflect

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame,

There still remains, to mortify a wit,

Ev’n copious Dryden, wanted, or forgot,

Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace;

Not to admire, is all the art I know,

Not to go back, is somewhat to advance,

For I, who hold sage Homer’s rule the best,

The feast of reason and the flow of soul.

Achilles’ wrath, to Greece the direful spring

Thus God and nature linked the gen’ral frame,

All our knowledge is, ourselves to know.

Behold the child, by Nature’s kindly law

For forms of government let fools contest;

The learn’d is happy nature to explore,

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;

Created half to rise, and half to fall;

And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason’s spite,

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;

The spider’s touch, how exquisitely fine!

All are but parts of one stupendous whole,

Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutored mind

Why has not man a microscopic eye?

Hope springs eternal in the human breast:

Eye Nature’s walks, shoot Folly as it flies,

Men must be taught as if you taught them not,

Some praise at morning what they blame at night;

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance.

The sound must seem an echo to the sense.

As some to church repair,

A needless Alexandrine ends the song,

Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,

True wit is Nature to advantage dressed,

A little learning is a dangerous thing;

Hills peep o’er hills, and Alps on Alps arise!

Nature, and Nature’s laws lay hid in night.

Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend,

Odious! in woollen! ’twould a saint provoke!

Old politicians chew on wisdom past,

Search then the Ruling Passion: There, alone,

’Tis education forms the common mind,

Consult the genius of the place in all.

’Tis use alone that sanctifies expense.

Die, and endow a college, or a cat.

The ruling passion, be it what it will,

Unlearn’d, he knew no schoolman’s subtle art,

‘Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?