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Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Edward Young
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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Great
Life
Joins
Sympathy
Desert
Solitude
Majority
Literature
Death
More quotes by Edward Young
The purpose firm is equal to the deed
Edward Young
Give me, indulgent gods with mind serene, And guiltless heart, to range the sylvan scene, No splendid poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur, there.
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The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
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Friendship's the wine of life.
Edward Young
'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven.
Edward Young
A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him he look'd plump and fair, While rankest venom foam'd through every vein.
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
Affliction is a good man's shining time.
Edward Young
Old men love novelties the last arriv'd Still pleases best the youngest steals their smiles.
Edward Young
A land of levity is a land of guilt.
Edward Young
Where Nature's end of language is declin'd, And men talk only to conceal the mind.
Edward Young
Amid my list of blessings infinite, stands this the foremost, that my heart has bled.
Edward Young
Heaven wills our happiness, allows our doom.
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
Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn.
Edward Young
The bell strikes One. We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours.
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
Accept a miracle, instead of wit See two dull lines, with Stanhope's pencil writ.
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
Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
Edward Young