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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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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Work
Fools
Men
Mortals
Reform
Lays
Fool
Idlers
Tomorrow
Reformation
Hold
Procrastination
Heaven
Mortal
More quotes by Edward Young
Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats All end of giving and procures contempt Instead of gratitude.
Edward Young
The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.
Edward Young
Affliction is the good man's shining scene prosperity conceals his brightest ray as night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
Edward Young
Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.
Edward Young
The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
Edward Young
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave legions of angels can't confine me there.
Edward Young
Day buries day month, month and year the year: Our life is but a chain of many deaths.
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
Wonder is involuntary praise.
Edward Young
Man wants little, nor that little long.
Edward Young
Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.
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
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
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
Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes They love a train, they tread each other's heel.
Edward Young
It calls Devotion! genuine growth of night! Devotion! Daughter of Astronomy! An undevout astronomer is mad!
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
But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
Edward Young
Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves. Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still.
Edward Young
Think naught a trifle, though it small appear Small stands the mountain, moments make the year, and trifles life.
Edward Young