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My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.

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
Lament
Near
Spent
Sing
Age
Time

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Wisdom with an inheritance is good, but wisdom without an inheritance is better than an inheritance without wisdom.
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Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I here, though there, yet both but one.
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Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.
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Iron till it be thoroughly heated is incapable to be wrought so God sees good to cast some men into the furnace of affliction, and then beats them on His anvil into what frame He desires.
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There is no object that we see no action that we do no good that we enjoy no evil that we feel, or fear, but we may make some spiritual advantage of all: and he that makes such improvement is wise, as well as pious.
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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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Sin and shame ever go together he that would be freed from the last must be sure to shun the company of the first.
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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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A prosperous state makes a secure Christian, but adversity makes him Consider.
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That when we live no more, We may live ever
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My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence. Thy love is such I can no way repay, The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
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Authority without wisdom is like a heavy ax without an edge -- fitter to bruise than polish.
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I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.
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But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.
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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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Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.
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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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He that would be content with a mean condition must not cast his eye upon one that is in a far better estate than himself, but let him look upon him that is lower than he is, and, if he see that such a one bears poverty comfortably, it will help to quiet him.
Anne Bradstreet