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The soft whispers of the God in man.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Whispers
Soft
Conscience
Men

More quotes by 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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Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn.
Edward Young
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Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
Edward Young
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Edward Young
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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
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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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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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Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
Edward Young
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When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
Edward Young
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And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
Edward Young
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Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
Edward Young
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And friend received with thumps upon the back.
Edward Young
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There buds the promise of celestial worth.
Edward Young
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Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.
Edward Young
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What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!
Edward Young
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Unlearned men of books assume the care, As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair.
Edward Young
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This is the bud of being, the dim dawn, The twilight of our day, the vestibule Life's theatre as yet is shut, and death, Strong death, alone can heave the massy bar, This gross impediment of clay remove, And make us embryos of existence free.
Edward Young
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Amid my list of blessings infinite, stands this the foremost, that my heart has bled.
Edward Young
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The man that makes a character, makes foes.
Edward Young
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On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.
Edward Young