165 Quotes by Thomas Gray

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

We frolic while 'tis May.

If the best man's faults were written on his forehead, he would draw his hat over his eyes.

Sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind.

Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.

One principal characteristic of vice in the present age is the contempt of fame.

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

The insect-youth are on the wing, Eager to taste the honied spring, And float amid the liquid noon!

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.