Edward Joseph Young Quotes
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He that lives in perpetual suspicion lives the life of a sentinel--of a sentinel never relieved, whose business it is to look out for and expect an enemy, which is an evil not very far short of perishing by him.
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Ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.
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Blest leisure is our curse; like that of Cain, It, makes us wander, wander earth around, To fly that tyrant Thought. As Atlas groan'd The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour.
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Our land is the dearer of our sacrifices. The blood of our martyrs sanctifies and enriches it. Their spirit passes into thousands of hearts. How costly is the progress of the race. It is only by the giving of life that we can have life.
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'Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.
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Day buries day; month, month; and year the year: Our life is but a chain of many deaths.
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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.
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Old men love novelties; the last arriv'd Still pleases best; the youngest steals their smiles.
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When human glory rises high As human glory can; When though the king is truly great, Still greater is the man.
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A tender smile, our sorrows' only balm.
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Excellent creature! How my soul pants for thee!
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Live now; be damn'd hereafter.
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We rise in glory, as we sink in pride: Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
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A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him; he look'd plump and fair
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Our thoughts are heard in heaven.
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The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art, Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart: The proud to gain it toils on toils endure, The modest shun it, but to make it sure.
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In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom; but he who reflects not, never reaps.
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
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Some go to Church, proud humbly to repent, And come back much more guilty than they went: One way they look, another way they steer, Pray to the Gods; but would have Mortals hear; And when their sins they set sincerely down, They'll find that their Religion has been one.
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Not all the pride of beauty; Those eyes, that tell us what the sun is made of; Those lips, whose touch is to be bought with life; Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt: All these possessed are nought, but as they are The proof, the substance of an inward passion, And the rich plunder of a taken heart.
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What angels guard, no longer dare neglect, Slighting thyself, affront not God's respect.
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By night an atheist half believes in God.
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The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.
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Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fires the greatest smoke.