-
The chamber where the good man meets his fateIs privileg’d beyond the common walkOf virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
Edward Young -
How commentators each dark passage shun,And hold their farthing candle to the sun.
Edward Young
-
Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes;They love a train, they tread each other’s heel.
Edward Young -
A soul without reflection, like a pileWithout inhabitant, to ruin runs.
Edward Young -
Be wise with speed;A fool at forty is a fool indeed.
Edward Young -
A death-bed ’s a detector of the heart.
Edward Young -
He weeps! the falling drop puts out the sun; He sighs! the sigh earth's deep foundation shakes. If in His love so terrible, what then His wrath inflamed?
Edward Young -
To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain.
Edward Young
-
'I've lost a day!'-the prince who nobly cried,Had been an emperor without his crown.
Edward Young -
An undevout astronomer is mad.
Edward Young -
What ardently we wish we soon believe.
Edward Young -
Life is the desert, life the solitude;Death joins us to the great majority.
Edward Young -
The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art,Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart.
Edward Young -
Their feet through faithless leather met the dirt,And oftener chang'd their principles than shirt.
Edward Young
-
While man is growing, life is in decrease;And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.Our birth is nothing but our death begun.
Edward Young -
And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.
Edward Young -
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 thoughtResolves, and re-resolves; then dies the same.
Edward Young -
Friendship's the wine of life; but friendship new(Not such was his) is neither strong nor pure.
Edward Young -
Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote,And think they grow immortal as they quote.
Edward Young -
Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed:Who does the best his circumstance allowsDoes well, acts nobly; angels could no more.
Edward Young
-
When the Law shows her teeth, but dares not bite.
Edward Young -
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep!
Edward Young -
Titles are marks of honest men, and wise;The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
Edward Young -
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.
Edward Young