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There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Something
Admired
Explained
Prose
Logic
Mystery
Poetry
Beyond
Literature

More quotes by Edward Young

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The course of Nature is the art of God
Edward Young
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None think the great unhappy, but the great.
Edward Young
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
Edward Young
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Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly angels could no more.
Edward Young
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Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.
Edward Young
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Time destroyed Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
Edward Young
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Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats All end of giving and procures contempt Instead of gratitude.
Edward Young
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When men once reach their autumn, sickly joys fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees
Edward Young
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A friend is worth all hazards we can run.
Edward Young
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Pity swells the tide of love.
Edward Young
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There is nothing of which men are more liberal than their good advice, be their stock of it ever so small because it seems to carry in it an intimation of their own influence, importance or worth.
Edward Young
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How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!
Edward Young
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He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.
Edward Young
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Day buries day month, month and year the year: Our life is but a chain of many deaths.
Edward Young
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Wouldst thou be famed? have those high acts in view, Brave men would act though scandal would ensue.
Edward Young
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Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!
Edward Young
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They most the world enjoy who least admire.
Edward Young
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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
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One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
Edward Young
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Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread.
Edward Young