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On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Inspirational
Thorn
Every
Flows
Delightful
Instruction
Flow
Sweet
Grows
Wisdom
Rill

More quotes by Edward Young

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Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat defects of judgment, and the will subdue walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore of that vast ocean it must sail so soon.
Edward Young
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Inhumanity is caught from man, From smiling man.
Edward Young
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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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None think the great unhappy, but the great.
Edward Young
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Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.
Edward Young
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Wonder is involuntary praise.
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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Pity swells the tide of love.
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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Give me, indulgent gods with mind serene, And guiltless heart, to range the sylvan scene, No splendid poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur, there.
Edward Young
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Affliction is a good man's shining time.
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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The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.
Edward Young
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The future... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done
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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Men are but men we did not make ourselves.
Edward Young
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Affliction is the good man's shining scene prosperity conceals his brightest ray as night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
Edward Young
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Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
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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Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid, A soldier should be modest as a maid.
Edward Young