More about Edward Moore
Edward Moore Quotes
6 Sourced Quotes
Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies,
And love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.
Can't I another's face commend,
And to her virtues be a friend,
But instantly your forehead lowers,
As if her merit lessen'd yours?
The maid who modestly conceals
Her beauties, while she hides, reveals;
Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws
Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.
Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,
And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.
'T is now the summer of your youth. Time has not cropt the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.
But from the hoop's bewitching round,
Her very shoe has power to wound.
Quote of the day
There are more ways of killing a cat than drowning it in butter; but this is the sort of thing (as the proverb indicates) we overlook: there are more ways of outraging speech than contradiction merely.
J. L. Austin
March 22, 1712
March 1, 1757
Edward Moore, English dramatist and miscellaneous writer, the son of a dissenting minister, was born at Abingdon, Berkshire.
The Elements of Ethics
Philosophy of G. E. Moore
Ethics and The Nature of Moral Philosophy
A Defence of Common Sense
Edward Moore on Wikipedia
Edward Moore works on Gutenberg Project
Edward Moore works on Wikisource
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