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The soul of man is infinite in what it covets.

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
Covets
Covetousness
Infinite
Soul
Men

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To the old, long life and treasure To the young, all health and pleasure.
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How near to good is what is fair!
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Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever Spend not then his gifts in vain: Suns that set may rise again But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys.
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Whom the disease of talking still once posses-seth, he can never hold his peace.
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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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Freedom doth with degree dispense.
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Affliction teacheth a wicked person sometime to pray prosperity never.
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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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The way to rise is to obey and please.
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Prevent your day at morning.
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Follow a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you Let her alone, she will court you. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men?
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Peace is never more than one thought away.
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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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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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It is as great a spite to be praised in the wrong place, and by a wrong person, as can be done to a noble nature.
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