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Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure/A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.
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
Weak
Brain
Sure
Admits
Art
Maxim
Much
Maxims
Wounded
Cure
Cures
More quotes by Anne Bradstreet
The world no longer lets me love, My hope and treasure are above.
Anne Bradstreet
Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.
Anne Bradstreet
Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.
Anne Bradstreet
Fire hath its force abated by water, not by wind and anger must be allayed by cold words, and not by blustering threats.
Anne Bradstreet
To sing of Wars, of Captains, and of Kings/Of Cities founded, Common-wealths begun/For my mean Pen are too superior things.
Anne Bradstreet
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
Anne Bradstreet
I happy am, if well with you.
Anne Bradstreet
That when we live no more, We may live ever
Anne Bradstreet
I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.
Anne Bradstreet
My hope and treasure lies above
Anne Bradstreet
The stones and trees, insensible to time, / Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen / If Winter come, and greenness then do fade / A Spring returns, and they more youthful made / But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.
Anne Bradstreet
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold or all the riches that the East doth hold.
Anne Bradstreet
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
Anne Bradstreet
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.
Anne Bradstreet
If we had not winter, the spring would not be so pleasant if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
Anne Bradstreet
We must, therefore, be here as strangers and pilgrims, that we may plainly declare that we seek a city above.
Anne Bradstreet
But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.
Anne Bradstreet
If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.
Anne Bradstreet
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
Anne Bradstreet
If ever wife was happy in a man, compare with me, ye women if you can.
Anne Bradstreet