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Edward Young quotes - page 5
Affliction is a good man's shining time.
Edward Young
Wise it is to comprehend the whole.
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
With skill she vibrates her eternal tongue, Forever most divinely in the wrong.
Edward Young
The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave, The deep damp vault, the darkness and the worm.
Edward Young
And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.
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
On reason build resolve, that column of true majesty in man.
Edward Young
As Love alone can exquisitely bless, Love only feels the marvellous of pain; Opens new veins of torture in the soul, And wakes the nerve where agonies are born.
Edward Young
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour.
Edward Young
When the Law shows her teeth, but dares not bite.
Edward Young
To waft a feather or to drown a fly.
Edward Young
And waste their music on the savage race.
Edward Young
There is something in Poetry beyond Prose-reason; there are Mysteries in it not to be explained, but admired; which render mere Prose-men Infidels to their Divinity.
Edward Young
Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
Edward Young
The purpose firm is equal to the deed.
Edward Young
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep!
Edward Young
Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.
Edward Young
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.
Edward Young
Born Originals, how comes it to pass that we die Copies?
Edward Young
But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
Edward Young
In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom but he who reflects not, never reaps has no harvest from it, but carries the burden of age without the wages of experience nor knows himself old, but from his infirmities, the parish register, and the contempt of mankind. And age, if it has not esteem, has nothing.
Edward Young
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