Quote

Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.

Thomas Gray

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Thomas Gray
Age: 54 †
Born: 1716
Born: December 26
Died: 1771
Died: July 30
Literary Critic
Poet
London
England
Smiles
Charm
Smile
Youth
Reason
Without
Chiefest
Charms

More quotes by Thomas Gray

Image
Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions date descry.
Thomas Gray
Image
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Thomas Gray
Image
T'was Spring, t'was Summer, all was gay Now Autumn bears a cloud brow The flowers of Spring are swept way And Summer fruits desert the bough
Thomas Gray
Image
Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow.
Thomas Gray
Image
The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.
Thomas Gray
Image
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gained from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.
Thomas Gray
Image
And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
Thomas Gray
Image
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
Thomas Gray
Image
Any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with veracity.
Thomas Gray
Image
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray
Image
Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.
Thomas Gray
Image
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Thomas Gray
Image
I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
Thomas Gray
Image
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Thomas Gray
Image
To each his suff'rings: all are men, / Condemn'd alike to groan, / The tender for another's pain / Th' unfeeling for his own.
Thomas Gray
Image
The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring.
Thomas Gray
Image
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
Image
The time will come, when thou shalt lift thine eyes To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies. While aged peasants, too amazed for words, Stare at the flying fleets of wondrous birds.
Thomas Gray
Image
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?
Thomas Gray
Image
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor.
Thomas Gray