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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.
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
Never
Line
Plotted
Would
Thousand
Mentioned
Player
Whatsoever
Answers
Shakespeare
Lines
Hath
Often
Honour
Remember
Players
Penned
Writing
Answer
Blotted
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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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Now we are all fallen, youth from their fear, And age from that which bred it, good example.
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I would rather have a plain down-right wisdom than a foolish and affected eloquence.
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To the old, long life and treasure To the young, all health and pleasure.
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There is no bounty to be showed to such As have real goodness: Bounty is A spice of virtue and what virtuous act Can take effect on them that have no power Of equal habitude to apprehend it?
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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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The covetous man never has money. The prodigal will have none shortly.
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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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Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear.
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Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace Robes loosely flowing, hair as free Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art: They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
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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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The poet is the nearest borderer upon the orator.
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Ambition, like a torrent, ne'er looks back And is a swelling, and the last affection A high mind can put off being both a rebel Unto the soul and reason, and enforceth All laws, all conscience, treads upon religion, and offereth violence to nature's self.
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I glory, more in the cunning purchase of my wealth than in the glad possession.
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Nothing is a courtesy unless it be meant us, and that friendly and lovingly. We owe no thanks to rivers that they carry our boats, or winds that they be favoring and fill our sails, or meats that they be nourishing for these are what they are necessarily. Horses carry us, trees shade us but they know it not.
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The world knows only two, that's Rome and I.
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It is less dishonor to hear imperfectly than to speak imperfectly. The ears are excused the understanding is not.
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I perceive affection makes a fool Of any man too much the father.
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Well, as he brews, so shall he drink.
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Tell troth and shame the devil.
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