Life's Pleasures Quote by Edward Young

Friendship, for Edward Young, isn’t a Hallmark virtue; it’s a substance with chemistry, age, and consequence. Calling it “the wine of life” flatters friendship while also setting a trap: wine is only as good as its fermentation, and it can intoxicate, cloud judgment, even sour. Young’s simile grants pleasure and necessity, then immediately tightens the moral screw with “but friendship new... is neither strong nor pure.” The ellipsis matters. It mimics the pause of someone who knows they’re about to disappoint you with a truth that feels anti-romantic: intimacy needs time, and early closeness is often a blend of projection, convenience, and appetite for novelty.

The subtext is pointedly social. In an 18th-century world of patronage networks, salons, and reputations managed like estates, “new” friendship could be transactional or performative, an investment not yet tested by conflict, scarcity, or boredom. Strength comes from endurance; purity comes from having motives burn off over time. Young isn’t saying fresh bonds are worthless. He’s warning that they’re unproven and easily adulterated, like a young wine still full of sediment.

There’s also an edge of personal caution: the line reads like advice to the ambitious and the lonely alike. Don’t confuse quick warmth for loyalty; don’t mistake the sparkle of introduction for the depth of attachment. The rhetorical beauty is its double promise: friendship can be the best drink you’ll ever have, but only if you let it age long enough to deserve the name.