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Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes They love a train, they tread each other's heel.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Heel
Tread
Woe
Heels
Solitary
Rare
Cluster
Train
Woes
Love
Clusters

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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.
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Men are but men we did not make ourselves.
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A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
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He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.
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Read nature nature is a friend to truth.
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Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, That all men are about to live.
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We nothing know, but what is marvellous Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
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Inhumanity is caught from man, From smiling man.
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The course of Nature is the art of God
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The purpose firm is equal to the deed
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
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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.
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Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
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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.
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Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
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Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
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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.
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Titles are marks of honest men, and wise The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
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By all means use some time to be alone.
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