Edward Young Quotes
1683–1765 England
Edward Young (c. 3 July 1683 – April 5, 1765) was an English poet, best remembered for Night-Thoughts.
- England
- Critics
- Philosophers
- Poets
- Theologians
Also known as: Young, Edward
Random Edward Young quote
252 quotes
Thoughts shut up want air,
And spoil, like bales unopen’d to the sun.
Night-Thoughts (1742)
The spirit walks of every day deceased.
Night-Thoughts (1742)
A shameless woman is the worst of men.
A man of pleasure is a man of pains.
Night-Thoughts (1742)
Nothing but what astonishes is true.
Procrastination is the thief of time:
Year after year it steals, till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Of folly, vice, disease, men proud we see;
And, (stranger still,) of blockheads' flattery;
Whose praise defames; as if a fool should mean,
By spitting on your face, to make it clean.
Women were made to give our eyes delight;
A female sloven is an odious sight.
Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of Death,
To break the shock blind nature cannot shun,
And lands Thought smoothly on the further shore.
Still seems it strange, that thou shouldst live forever?
Is it less strange, that thou shouldst live at all?
This is a miracle; and that no more.
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?
The course of Nature is the art of God.
Night-Thoughts (1742)
Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast.
A tender smile, our sorrows' only balm.
I give him joy that's awkward at a lie.
Mine is the night, with all her stars.
Paraphrase on Job (1726)
Be wise today; 'tis madness to defer.
Night-Thoughts (1742)
A land of levity is a land of guilt.
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.
Love of Fame (1725)
As in smooth oil the razor best is whet,
So wit is by politeness sharpest set;
Their want of edge from their offence is seen,
Both pain us least when exquisitely keen.