Quote

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.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Last
Builds
Fall
Monument
Makes
Egypt
Vales
Stills
Virtue
Pygmies
Still
Shall
Alps
Men
Alone
Monuments
Though
Pyramids
Lasts
Stature

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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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Pity swells the tide of love.
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Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
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On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.
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Old men love novelties the last arriv'd Still pleases best the youngest steals their smiles.
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The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.
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Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
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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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Like our shadows, our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.
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The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.
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A Christian is the highest style of man.
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Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread.
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
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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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A tardy vengeance shares the tyrant's guilt.
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'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven.
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Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly angels could no more.
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Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!
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Unlearned men of books assume the care, As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair.
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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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