A Quote by Edward Young

We are all born originals - why is it so many of us die copies? — © Edward Young
We are all born originals - why is it so many of us die copies?
Born Originals, how comes it to pass that we die Copies?
There is no doubt that each of us is born an individual. Why is it then that so many of us die carbon copies?
Not infrequently, we encounter copies of important human beings; and here, too, as in the case of paintings, most people prefer the copies to the originals.
History is a gallery of pictures in which there are few originals and many copies.
Born originals, how comes it to pass that we die copies? That meddling ape imitation, as soon as we come to years of indiscretion, (so let me speak,) snatches the pen, and blots out nature's mark of separation, cancels her kind intention, destroys all mental individuality. The lettered world no longer consists of singulars: it is a medley, a mass; and a hundred books, at bottom, are but one.
The circumstance which gives authors an advantage above all these great masters, is this, that they can multiply their originals; or rather, can make copies of their works, to what number they please, which shall be as valuable as the originals themselves.
The only good copies are those which make us see the absurdity of bad originals.
Why are we born? We're born eventually to die, of course. But what happens between the time we're born and we die? We're born to live. One is a realist if one hopes.
There are more copies than originals among people.
Every man is born an original, but sadly, most men die copies.
We live in a world of copies and we're fascinated when we encounter the originals (in a museum, for instance).
It's in my stars to invent; I was born on Madame Curie's birthday. I have this need for originals, for innovation. That's why I like Charlie Parker.
God makes originals not carbon copies. It's okay to be inspired by someone, but be bold enough to be yourself.
History, it is easily perceived, is a picture-gallery containing a host of copies and very few originals.
When I decided to write about my brother and friends, I was attempting to answer the question why. Why did they all die like that? Why so many of them? Why so close together? Why were they all so young? Why, especially, in the kinds of places where we are from? Why would they all die back to back to back to back? I feel like I was writing my way towards an answer in the memoir.
Make copies, young man, many copies. You can only become a good artist by copying the masters.
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