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Where dost thou careless lie, Buried in ease and sloth? Knowledge that sleeps, doth die And this security, It is the common moth, That eats on wits and arts, and oft destroys them both.
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
Common
Arts
Sleeps
Art
Ease
Sloth
Thou
Eats
Security
Careless
Sleep
Doth
Moth
Dies
Destroys
Dost
Knowledge
Wit
Moths
Lying
Buried
Wits
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I'll give anything for a good copy now, be it true or false, so it be news.
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The covetous man never has money. The prodigal will have none shortly.
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If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick
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Folly often goes beyond her bounds, but impudence knows none.
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Good men but see death, the wicked taste it.
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Calumnies are answered best with silence.
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Drink today, and drown all sorrow You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow Best, while you have it, use your breath There is no drinking after death.
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A good man should and must Sit rather down with loss than rise unjust.
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How near to good is what is fair!
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Peace is never more than one thought away.
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Truth is man's proper good, and the only immortal thing was given to our mortality to use.
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Well, as he brews, so shall he drink.
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The soul of man is infinite in what it covets.
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He that would have his virtue published, is not the servant of virtue, but glory.
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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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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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Out of clothes out of countenance, out of countenance out of wit.
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Each petty hand Can steer a ship becalm'd but he that will Govern and carry her to her ends, must know His tides, his currents, how to shift his sails What she will bear in foul, what in fair weathers Where her springs are, her leaks, and how to stop 'em What strands, what shelves, what rocks do threaten her.
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