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A friend is worth all hazards we can run.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Literature
Running
Hazards
Friend
Worth

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Be wise with speed a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
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Pity swells the tide of love.
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When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.
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Amid my list of blessings infinite, stands this the foremost, that my heart has bled.
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When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
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Truth never was indebted to a lie
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Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
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But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
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At thirty, man suspects himself a fool Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.
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Like our shadows, our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.
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Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself. Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.
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We nothing know, but what is marvellous Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
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Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
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The man that makes a character, makes foes.
Edward Young
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Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.
Edward Young
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Edward Young
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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.
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Wouldst thou be famed? have those high acts in view, Brave men would act though scandal would ensue.
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The course of Nature is the art of God
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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