Quote

Poor worms, they hiss at me, whilst I at home Can be contented to applaud myself, . . . with joy To see how plump my bags are and my barns.

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
Home
Applaud
Contented
Whilst
Worms
Bags
Wealth
Hiss
Joy
Plump
Poor
Barns

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A prince without letters is a Pilot without eyes. All his government is groping.
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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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We are persons of quality, I assure you, and women of fashion, and come to see and to be seen.
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Force works on servile natures, not the free.
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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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He threatens many that hath injured one.
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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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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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Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!
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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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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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