A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.
A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.
A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.
A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.
A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price tag has been left.
Act well your part, there all the honour lies.
All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
All nature is but art unknown to thee.
An honest man’s the noblest work of God.
And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.
And die of nothing but a rage to live.
And, after all, what is a lie? ‘Tis but the truth in a masquerade.
At ev’ry word a reputation dies.
Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
Behold the child, by Nature’s kindly law pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.
But blind to former as to future fate, what mortal knows his pre-existent state?
But Satan now is wiser than of yore, and tempts by making rich, not making poor.
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
Education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree’s inclined.
Extremes in nature equal ends produce; In man they join to some mysterious use.
Fondly we think we honor merit then, When we but praise ourselves in other men.
Fools admire, but men of sense approve.
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
For Forms of Government let fools contest; whatever is best administered is best.
For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, His can’t be wrong whose life is in the right.
Genius creates, and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius; without taste, genius is only sublime folly.
Gentle dullness ever loves a joke.
Get place and wealth, if possible with grace; if not, by any means get wealth and place.
Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.
Health consists with temperance alone.
Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends.
Honor and shame from no condition rise. Act well your part: there all the honor lies.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always To be Blest.
Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot? The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense, and love the offender, yet detest the offence?
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.
If a man’s character is to be abused there’s nobody like a relative to do the business.
In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; Alike fantastic, if too new, or old: Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Know then this truth, enough for man to know virtue alone is happiness below.
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man.
Like Cato, give his little senate laws, and sit attentive to his own applause.
Lo! The poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind.
Lo, what huge heaps of littleness around!
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!
Man never thinks himself happy, but when he enjoys those things which others want or desire.
Many men have been capable of doing a wise thing, more a cunning thing, but very few a generous thing.
Men must be taught as if you taught them not, and things unknown proposed as things forgot.
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Nature and nature’s laws lay hid in the night. God said, Let Newton be! and all was light!
Never elated when someone’s oppressed, never dejected when another one’s blessed.
Never find fault with the absent.
Never was it given to mortal man – To lie so boldly as we women can.
No one should be ashamed to admit they are wrong, which is but saying, in other words, that they are wiser today than they were yesterday.
No woman ever hates a man for being in love with her, but many a woman hate a man for being a friend to her.
Not always actions show the man; we find who does a kindness is not therefore kind.
Not to go back is somewhat to advance, and men must walk, at least, before they dance.
Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild; In Wit a man; Simplicity, a child.
On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.
On wrongs swift vengeance waits.
One science only will one genius fit; so vast is art, so narrow human wit.
Order is heaven’s first law.
Our passions are like convulsion fits, which, though they make us stronger for a time, leave us the weaker ever after.
Party-spirit at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
Passions are the gales of life.
Praise undeserved, is satire in disguise.
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.
Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.
Satan is wiser now than before, and tempts by making rich instead of poor.
Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, But looks through Nature up to Nature’s God.
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.
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.
Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon.
Teach me to feel another’s woe, to hide the fault I see, that mercy I to others show, that mercy show to me.
The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read With loads of learned lumber in his head.
The difference is too nice – Where ends the virtue or begins the vice.
The greatest magnifying glasses in the world are a man’s own eyes when they look upon his own person.
The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, and wretches hang that jurymen may dine.
The learned is happy, nature to explore; The fool is happy, that he knows no more.
The most positive men are the most credulous.
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.
The same ambition can destroy or save, and make a patriot as it makes a knave.
The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg.
The way of the Creative works through change and transformation, so that each thing receives its true nature and destiny and comes into permanent accord with the Great Harmony: this is what furthers and what perseveres.
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.
There is a certain majesty in simplicity which is far above all the quaintness of wit.
They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
Those move easiest who have learn’d to dance.
Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
‘Tis education forms the common mind; just as the twig is bent the tree’s inclined.
‘Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do.
To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.
To err is human; to forgive, divine.
To observations which ourselves we make, we grow more partial for th’ observer’s sake.
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, as those who move easiest have learned to dance.
True politeness consists in being easy one’s self, and in making every one about one as easy as one can.
Trust not yourself, but your defects to know, make use of every friend and every foe.
Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.
What some call health, if purchased by perpetual anxiety about diet, isn’t much better than tedious disease.
Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?
Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne’er was, nor is, nor e’er shall be.
Wit is the lowest form of humor.
Woman’s at best a contradiction still.
