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I have no urns, no dusty monuments No broken images of ancestors, Wanting an ear, or nose no forged tales Of long descents, to boast false honors from.

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
Tales
Monument
False
Ancestors
Urns
Ears
Boast
Dusty
Honor
Ancestor
Monuments
Broken
Nose
Honors
Long
Noses
Forged
Images
Ancestry
Wanting
Descent

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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.
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He was not of an age, but for all time!
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The voice so sweet, the words so fair, As some soft chime had stroked the air And though the sound had parted thence, Still left an echo in the sense.
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Heaven prepares good men with crosses but no ill can happen to a good man.
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Custom is the most certain mistress of language, as the public stamp makes the current money.
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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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Nothing is more short-lived than pride.
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Cares that have entered once in the breast, will have whole possession of the rest.
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It is the highest of earthly honors to be descended from the great and good. They alone cry out against a noble ancestry who have none of their own.
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Art hath an enemy call'd ignorance .
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