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Affliction is a good man's shining time.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Affliction
Shining
Good
Men
Time

More quotes by Edward Young

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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
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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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And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
Edward Young
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But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
Edward Young
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Inhumanity is caught from man, From smiling man.
Edward Young
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This is the bud of being, the dim dawn, The twilight of our day, the vestibule Life's theatre as yet is shut, and death, Strong death, alone can heave the massy bar, This gross impediment of clay remove, And make us embryos of existence free.
Edward Young
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Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Edward Young
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The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
Edward Young
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Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, That all men are about to live.
Edward Young
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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
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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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Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
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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We nothing know, but what is marvellous Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
Edward Young
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Read nature nature is a friend to truth.
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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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.
Edward Young
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Where Nature's end of language is declin'd, And men talk only to conceal the mind.
Edward Young
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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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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