Edward Young Quotes (140 Quotes)

'T is impious in a good man to be sad.

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time But from its loss.

At thirty man suspects himself a fool Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves and re-resolves then dies the same

'T is elder Scripture, writ by God's own hand, Scripture authentic uncorrupt by man.

The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety.

Too low they build who build below the skies.

The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.

Procrastination is the thief of time.

I had looked for happiness in fast living, but it was not there. I tried to find it in money, but it was not there either. But when I placed myself in tune with what I believe to be the fundamental truths of life, when I began to develop my limited ability, to rid my mind of all kinds of tangled thoughts, and fill it with zeal and courage and love, when I gave myself a chance by treating myself decently and sensibly, I began to feel the stimulating, warm glow of happiness.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.

The house of laughter makes a house of woe.

O sacred solitude divine retreat Choice of the prudent envy of the great By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, We court fair wisdom, that celestial maid.

How commentators each dark passage shun, And hold their farthing candle to the sun.

Virtue alone out builds the pyramids Her monuments shall last, when Egypt's fall.

One to destroy, is murder by the law; and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; to murder thousands, takes a specious name, 'War's glorious art', and gives immortal fame.

Who knows if Shakespeare might not have thought less if he had read more.

They only babble who practise not reflection.

Truth never was indebted to a lie.

Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.

That life is long which answers life's great end.

You are so witty, profligate, and thin, At once we think thee Milton, Death, and Sin.

Too low they build who build beneath the stars.

Virtue alone has majesty in death.

Illustrious examples engross, prejudice, and intimidate. They engross our attention, and so prevent a due inspection of ourselves they prejudice our judgment in favor of their abilities, and so lessen the sense of our own and they intimidate us with the.

There buds the promise of celestial worth.

An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.

Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles the wretched he forsakes.

Wonder is involuntary praise.

Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay And if in death still lovely, lovelier there Far lovelier pity swells the tide of love.

'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven.

To leave a sting within a brother's heart.

Time flies, death urges, knells call, Heaven invites, Hell threatens.

The booby father craves a booby son, And by Heaven's blessing thinks himself undone.

Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes They love a train, they tread each other's heel.

The man that blushes is not quite a brute.

We take no note of time but from its loss.

For her own breakfast she'll project a scheme, Nor take her tea without a stratagem.

And all may do what has by man been done.

Procrastination is the thief of time. Night Thoughts

Beautiful as sweet, And young as beautiful, and soft as young, And gay as soft, and innocent as gay.

The man who consecrates his hours by vigorous effort, and An honest aim, at once he draws the sting of life and Death he walks with nature and her paths are peace.

We see time's furrows on another's brow, And death intrench'd, preparing his assault How few themselves in that just mirror see.

Their feet through faithless leather met the dirt, And oftener chang'd their principles than shirt.

They build too low who build beneath the skies.

To know the world, not love her, is thy point She gives but little, nor that little, long.

Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue.

Man's rich with little, were his judgment true Nature is frugal, and her wants are few These few wants answered bring sincere delights But fools create themselves new appetites.

Gold glitters most where virtue shines no more, As stars from absent suns have leave to shine.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.