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“Music resembles poetry, in each
Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a master hand alone can reach.”
― Alexander Pope, An Essay On Criticism

“Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine;
Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored;
Light dies before thy uncreating word:
Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall;
And universal darkness buries all.”
― Alexander Pope, The Dunciad

“All gardening is landscape painting,' said Alexander Pope.”
― Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking

“Feminine psychology is admittedly odd, sir. The poet Pope..."

"Never mind about the poet Pope, Jeeves."

"No, sir."

"There are times when one wants to hear all about the poet Pope and times when one doesn't."

"Very true, sir.”
― P.G. Wodehouse

“It did not last: the Devil howling 'Ho, Let Einstein be,' restored the status quo.”
― John Collings Squire

“Back hunched magician with golden knife
Notch the velvet green skin of English life
Couplet from ‘Dadsâ€� by Mk Bhutta”
― Lecturer M K Bhutta Poet

“It" is the idea of him or her that resides in us--inspired by the "Something" in them, as Pope has it, "That gives us back the Image of our Mind." Although the perception of It must be excited by some extraordinary perturbation in the looks and personality of the adored, the aura that It broadcasts arises not merely from the singularity of an original, as Walter Benjamin supposed, but also from the fabulous success of its reproducibility in the imaginations of many others, charmed exponentially by the number of its copies. The one-of-kind item must become a type, a replicable role-icon of itself--from "a Charles Hart" or "a Nell Gwyn" to "a Mary Pickford" or "a Douglas Fairbanks"--in order to unleash the Pygmalion effect in the hearts and minds of the fans, making the idea of him or her theirs--as much or more than anything else they might call their own.”
― Joseph Roach, It