Edward Young (c. 3 July 1683 – 5 April 1765) was an English poet, best remembered for Night-Thoughts, a series of philosophical writings in blank verse, reflecting his state of mind following several bereavements. It was one of the most popular poems of the century, influencing Goethe and Edmund Burke, among many others, with its notable illustrations by William Blake.
Young also took holy orders, and wrote many fawning letters in search of preferment, attracting accusations of insincerity.
Frequently asked questions about Edward Young
A Christian is the highest style of man.
Edward Young
A friend is worth all hazards we can run.
Edward Young
A God all mercy is a God unjust.
Edward Young
A man of pleasure is a man of pains.
Edward Young
A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
Edward Young
All men think all men mortal, but themselves.
Edward Young
All men think that all men are mortal but themselves.
Edward Young
An angel’s arm can’t snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can’t confine me there.
Edward Young
Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
Edward Young
By all means use some time to be alone.
Edward Young
By night an atheist half believes in a God.
Edward Young
Friendship’s the wine of life: but friendship new… is neither strong nor pure.
Edward Young
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
Edward Young
Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
Edward Young
Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Edward Young
Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.
Edward Young
Much learning shows how little mortals know; much wealth, how little wordings enjoy.
Edward Young
None think the great unhappy, but the great.
Edward Young
One to destroy, is murder by the law; and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; to murder thousands, takes a specious name, ‘War’s glorious art’, and gives immortal fame.
Edward Young
Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
Edward Young
Procrastination is the thief of time.
Edward Young
Read nature; nature is a friend to truth.
Edward Young
Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise.
Edward Young
Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote.
Edward Young
Still seems it strange, that thou shouldst live forever? Is it less strange, that thou shouldst live at all? This is a miracle; and that no more.
Edward Young
The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.
Edward Young
The course of Nature is the art of God.
Edward Young
The future… seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done.
Edward Young
The house of laughter makes a house of woe.
Edward Young
The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety.
Edward Young
The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
Edward Young
The man that makes a character, makes foes.
Edward Young
The purpose firm is equal to the deed.
Edward Young
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.
Edward Young
There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.
Edward Young
They only babble who practise not reflection.
Edward Young
Those who build beneath the stars build too low.
Edward Young
Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
Edward Young
Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform.
Edward Young
Too low they build who build below the skies.
Edward Young
Truth never was indebted to a lie.
Edward Young
Virtue alone has majesty in death.
Edward Young
Wise it is to comprehend the whole.
Edward Young
Wishing of all employments is the worst.
Edward Young
Wonder is involuntary praise.
Edward Young