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I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.

Anne Bradstreet

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Anne Bradstreet
Age: 60 †
Born: 1612
Born: March 20
Died: 1672
Died: September 16
Poet
Writer
Ann Dudley
Ann Dudley Bradstreet
Anne Dudley Bradstreet
Anne Dudley
Better
Needles
Fits
Scorn
Tongue
Fit
Says
Carping
Hand
Needle
Hands
Obnoxious

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Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I here, though there, yet both but one.
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The world no longer lets me love, My hope and treasure are above.
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Satan, that great angler, hath his sundry baits for sundry tempers of men, which they all catch greedily at, but few perceive the hook till it be too late.
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If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.
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Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.
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If ever wife was happy in a man, compare with me, ye women if you can.
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Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending.
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If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
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Fire hath its force abated by water, not by wind and anger must be allayed by cold words, and not by blustering threats.
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What to my Saviour shall I giveWho freely hath done this for me?I'll serve him here whilst I shall liveAnd Loue him to Eternity
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Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure/A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.
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That when we live no more, We may live ever
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We must, therefore, be here as strangers and pilgrims, that we may plainly declare that we seek a city above.
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But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.
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Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.
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Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending a negligent youth is usually attended by an ignorant middle age, and both by an empty old age.
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My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.
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Wickedness comes to its height by degrees. He that dares say of a less sin, Is it not a little one? will ere long say of a greater, Tush, God regards it not!
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I happy am, if well with you.
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When I behold the heavens as in their prime, And then the earth (though old) still clad in green, The stones and trees, insensible of time, Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen
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