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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
Mystery
Poetry
Beyond
Literature
Something
Admired
Explained
Prose
Logic

More quotes by Edward Young

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Men are but men we did not make ourselves.
Edward Young
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Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid, A soldier should be modest as a maid.
Edward Young
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Think naught a trifle, though it small appear Small stands the mountain, moments make the year, and trifles life.
Edward Young
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Pity swells the tide of love.
Edward Young
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
Edward Young
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Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
Edward Young
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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
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Edward Young
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Affliction is a good man's shining time.
Edward Young
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Be wise to-day 't is madness to defer.
Edward Young
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Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform and mortal men lay hold on heaven.
Edward Young
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Midway from Nothing to the Deity!
Edward Young
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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
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Youth is not rich in time it may be poor Part with it as with money, sparing pay No moment but in purchase of its worth, And what it's worth, ask death-beds they can tell.
Edward Young
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Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
Edward Young
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By all means use some time to be alone.
Edward Young
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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
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Time destroyed Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
Edward Young
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Titles are marks of honest men, and wise The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
Edward Young
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The qualities all in a bee that we meet, In an epigram never should fail The body should always be little and sweet, And a sting should be felt in its tail.
Edward Young