Quote

It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest Would thou could'st make the time to do so too I'll wind thee up no more.

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
Enough
Watch
Strikes
Make
Wind
Beat
Would
Rest
Six
Time
Sleep
Thou
Four
Thee
Five
Beats
Three
Dear
Pulse
Two
Watches
Hath

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Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine.
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It holds for good polity ever, to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, which inwardly is most dear to us.
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Your highest female grace is silence.
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Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short And done, we straight repent us of the sport: Let us not rush blindly on unto it, Like lustful beasts, that only know to do it: For lust will languish, and that heat decay, But thus, thus, keeping endless Holy-.
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In the hope to meet Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
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To men pressed by their wants all change is ever welcome.
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Passions are spiritual rebels and raise sedition against the understanding.
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Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!
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Confound these ancestors... They've stolen our best ideas!
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Forbear, you things That stand upon the pinnacles of state, To boast your slippery height! when you do fall, You dash yourselves in pieces, ne'er to rise: And he that lends you pity, is not wise.
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No glass renders a man's form or likeness so true as his speech.
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A good man will avoid the spot of any sin. The very aspersion is grievous, which makes him choose his way in his life, as he would in his journey.
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I do honor the very flea of his dog.
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I feel my griefs too, and there scarce is ground Upon my flesh t'inflict another wound. Yet dare I not complain, or wish for death With holy Paul lest it be thought the breath Of discontent or that these prayers be For weariness of life, not love of thee.
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Indeed there's a woundy luck in names.
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Great honours are great burdens, but on whom They are cast with envy, he doth bear two loads.
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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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If you succeed not, cast not away the quills yet, nor scratch the wainscot, beat not the poor desk, but bring all to the forge and file again turn it new.
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