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Wit That Can Creep, And Pride That Licks The Dust. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle To Dr.
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Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
-- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 333
Related:
E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 12...
Obliged by hunger and request of friends. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 44...
On wings of winds came flying all abroad." -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 218...
No creature smarts so little as a fool. -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr.
Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 84...
That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long, But stoop'd to truth, and moraliz'd his song.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 340...
Destroy his fib or sophistry--in vain! The creature 's at his dirty work again.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 91...
Fired that the house rejects him, "'Sdeath! I 'll print it, And shame the fools.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 61...
Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 213...
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, Prologue to the Satires, Line 307...