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Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps;And pyramids are pyramids in vales.Each man makes his own stature, builds himself.Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids;Her monuments shall last when Egypt’s fall.
Edward Young -
Thoughts shut up want air,And spoil, like bales unopen’d to the sun.
Edward Young -
Ah, how unjust to Nature and himselfIs thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man!
Edward Young -
With skill she vibrates her eternal tongue,Forever most divinely in the wrong.
Edward Young -
’Tis impious in a good man to be sad
Edward Young -
Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne,In rayless majesty, now stretches forthHer leaden scepter o'er a slumbering world.
Edward Young
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Virtue alone has majesty in death.
Edward Young -
Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!
Edward Young -
Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.
Edward Young -
'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours,And ask them what report they bore to heaven.
Edward Young -
Life's cares are comforts; such by Heav'n design'd; He that hath none must make them, or be wretched.
Edward Young -
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour.
Edward Young
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Like our shadows, Our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.
Edward Young -
On reason build resolve,that column of true majesty in man.
Edward Young -
There is something in Poetry beyond Prose-reason; there are Mysteries in it not to be explained, but admired.
Edward Young -
Wishing, of all employments, is the worst.
Edward Young -
The bell strikes one. We take no note of timeBut from its loss.
Edward Young -
The house of laughter makes a house of woe.
Edward Young