Quotes and anectdotes from the wise to the foolish, and the courageous to the drunk

Edward Young Author

  • Gender: Male
  • Citizenship: England
  • Born: Jul 3, 1683
  • Died: Apr 5, 1765

Edward Young (June 1681 - 5 April 1765) was an English poet, best remembered for Night Thoughts.

He was the son of Edward Young, later Dean of Salisbury, and was born at his father's rectory at Upham, near Winchester, where he was baptized on 3 July 1683. He was educated at Winchester College, and matriculated in 1702 at New College, Oxford. He later moved to Corpus Christi, and in 1708 was nominated by Archbishop Tenison to a law fellowship at All Souls. He took his degree of D.C.L. in 1719.

His first publication was an Epistle to ... Lord Lansdoune (1713). It was followed by a Poem on the Last Day (1713), dedicated to Queen Anne; The Force of Religion: or Vanquished Love (1714), a poem on the execution of Lady Jane Grey and her husband, dedicated to the Countess of Salisbury; and an epistle to Joseph Addison, On the late Queen's Death and His Majesty's Accession to the Throne (1714), in which he rushed to praise the new king. The fulsome style of the dedications jars with the pious tone of the poems, and they are omitted from his own edition of his works.

By all means use some time to be alone. alone

The future... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done. future

The weak have remedies, the wise have joys superior wisdom is superior bliss. wisdom

Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die. men

The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety. trust

Much learning shows how little mortals know much wealth, how little wordings enjoy. learning

The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought. wisdom

Less base the fear of death than fear of life. death & fear

Friendship's the wine of life: but friendship new... is neither strong nor pure. friendship

Virtue alone has majesty in death. alone & death

There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired. poetry

Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote. learning

Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority. death

Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire. death