Quote

Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!

Ben Jonson

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Ben Jonson
Age: 65 †
Born: 1572
Born: June 21
Died: 1637
Died: August 6
Actor
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Writer
City of Westminster
Benjamin Jonson
May
Syllables
Reason
Jars
Never
Resting
Time
Rhyme
Poetry
War
Stills
Still

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Many punishments sometimes, and in some cases, as much discredit a prince as many funerals a physician.
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Fortune, thou hadst no deity, if men Had wisdom.
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Peace is never more than one thought away.
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Aristotle was the first accurate critic and truest judge nay, the greatest philosopher the world ever had for he noted the vices of all knowledges, in all creatures, and out of many men's perfections in a science he formed still one Art.
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Reader look, not on his picture but his book.
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Confound these ancestors... They've stolen our best ideas!
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Silence in woman is like speech in man.
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Queen and huntress, chaste and fair Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light Goddess, excellently bright.
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I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a thousand.
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Force works on servile natures, not the free.
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Court a mistress, she denies you let her alone, she will court you.
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Woman, the more careful she is about her face, the more careless about her house.
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Soul of the age! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare , rise I will not lodge thee by Chaucer or Spenser , or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read , and praise to give .
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I see compassion may become a justice, though it be a weakness, I confess, and nearer a vice than a virtue.
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He was not of an age, but for all time!
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Out of clothes out of countenance, out of countenance out of wit.
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There is no greater hell than to be a prisoner of fear.
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Well, I will scourge those apes, And to these courteous eyes oppose a mirror, As large as is the stage whereon we act Where they shall see the time's deformity Anatomised in every nerve, and sinew, With constant courage, and contempt of fear.
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Many might go to heaven with half the labour they go to hell, if they would venture their industry the right way.
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Who will not judge him worthy to be robbed That sets his doors wide open to a thief, And shows the felon where his treasure lies?
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