Alexander Pope

Many men have been capable of doing a wise thing, More a cunning thing, but very few a generous thing.

Remembrance and reflection how allied! What thin partitions sense from thought divide!

At every word a reputation dies.

She who ne'er answers till a husband cools, Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules; Charms by accepting, by submitting, sways, Yet has her humor most, when she obeys.

The ruling passion, be it what it will, The ruling passion conquers reason still.

Party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.

Fondly we think we honour merit then, When we but praise ourselves in other men.

In pride, in reasoning pride, our error lies; All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies. Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, Aspiring to be angels, men rebel.

Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes; Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, Aspiring to be angels, men rebel.

Of all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind; What the weak head with strongest bias rules,- Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.