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An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave legions of angels can't confine me there.
Edward Young
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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Dying
Confine
Arms
Legion
Fear
Grave
Death
Angels
Hands
Graves
Rage
Angel
Legions
Atheism
Snatch
More quotes by 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
What is a miracle?--'Tis a reproach, 'Tis an implicit satire on mankind And while it satisfies, it censures too.
Edward Young
A Christian is the highest style of man.
Edward Young
Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes They love a train, they tread each other's heel.
Edward Young
They most the world enjoy who least admire.
Edward Young
O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.
Edward Young
Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Edward Young
Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight, On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . Less base the fear of death than fear of life. O Britain! infamous for suicide.
Edward Young
Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
Edward Young
What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.
Edward Young
Heaven wills our happiness, allows our doom.
Edward Young
Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
Edward Young
The course of Nature is the art of God
Edward Young
Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread.
Edward Young
Who combats with a brother, wounds himself.
Edward Young
Men before you have quit smoking - you can too!
Edward Young
The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss it breaks at every breeze.
Edward Young
And friend received with thumps upon the back.
Edward Young
Old men love novelties the last arriv'd Still pleases best the youngest steals their smiles.
Edward Young
And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
Edward Young
