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When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Shows
Light
Infamy
Men
Torch
Torches
Grandeur
Soar
Shame
Show

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Pity swells the tide of love.
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Where Nature's end of language is declin'd, And men talk only to conceal the mind.
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Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform and mortal men lay hold on heaven.
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Amid my list of blessings infinite, stands this the foremost, that my heart has bled.
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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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Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, That all men are about to live.
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Thoughts shut up want air, And spoil, like bales unopen'd to the sun.
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A Christian is the highest style of man.
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There is nothing of which men are more liberal than their good advice, be their stock of it ever so small because it seems to carry in it an intimation of their own influence, importance or worth.
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Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
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Inhumanity is caught from man, From smiling man.
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What is a miracle?--'Tis a reproach, 'Tis an implicit satire on mankind And while it satisfies, it censures too.
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And friend received with thumps upon the back.
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What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!
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Praise, more divine than prayer prayer points our ready path to heaven praise is already there.
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Truth never was indebted to a lie
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An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave legions of angels can't confine me there.
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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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He sins against this life, who slights the next.
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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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