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Court a mistress, she denies you let her alone, she will court you.
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
Wooing
Frailty
Denies
Mistress
Deny
Court
Alone
More quotes by Ben Jonson
Affliction teacheth a wicked person sometime to pray prosperity never.
Ben Jonson
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.
Ben Jonson
The man that is once hated, both his good and his evil deeds oppress him.
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Good men but see death, the wicked taste it.
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The poet is the nearest borderer upon the orator.
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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.
Ben Jonson
Where it concerns himself, Who's angry at a slander, makes it true.
Ben Jonson
Confound these ancestors... They've stolen our best ideas!
Ben Jonson
I glory, more in the cunning purchase of my wealth than in the glad possession.
Ben Jonson
One woman reads another's character Without the tedious trouble of deciphering
Ben Jonson
Love that is ignorant and hatred have almost the same ends.
Ben Jonson
True melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit.
Ben Jonson
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
Whom the disease of talking still once posses-seth, he can never hold his peace.
Ben Jonson
Neither do thou lust after that tawny weed tobacco.
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Art hath an enemy call'd ignorance .
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It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest Would thou could'st make the time to do so too I'll wind thee up no more.
Ben Jonson
The covetous man never has money. The prodigal will have none shortly.
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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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Silence in woman is like speech in man.
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