Quote

Fame is the shade of immortality, And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemn'd it shrinks to nothing in the grasp.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Grasp
Shade
Immortality
Caught
Shadow
Fame
Soon
Contemn
Nothing
Shrinks

More quotes by Edward Young

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The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss it breaks at every breeze.
Edward Young
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The spirit walks of every day deceased.
Edward Young
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Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Edward Young
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The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
Edward Young
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A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him he look'd plump and fair, While rankest venom foam'd through every vein.
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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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Day buries day month, month and year the year: Our life is but a chain of many deaths.
Edward Young
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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.
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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Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight, On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . Less base the fear of death than fear of life. O Britain! infamous for suicide.
Edward Young
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What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.
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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Old men love novelties the last arriv'd Still pleases best the youngest steals their smiles.
Edward Young
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One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
Edward Young
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Angels are men of a superior kind Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
Edward Young
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
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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How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!
Edward Young
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Be wise with speed a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
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