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Out of clothes out of countenance, out of countenance out of wit.

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
Countenance
Wit
Clothes

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I know no disease of the soul but ignorance, a pernicious evil, the darkener of man's life, the disturber of his reason, and common confounder of truth.
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Aristotle was the first accurate critic and truest judge nay, the greatest philosopher the world ever had for he noted the vices of all knowledges, in all creatures, and out of many men's perfections in a science he formed still one Art.
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If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick
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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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If you succeed not, cast not away the quills yet, nor scratch the wainscot, beat not the poor desk, but bring all to the forge and file again turn it new.
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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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How near to good is what is fair!
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Passions are spiritual rebels and raise sedition against the understanding.
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Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short And done, we straight repent us of the sport: Let us not rush blindly on unto it, Like lustful beasts, that only know to do it: For lust will languish, and that heat decay, But thus, thus, keeping endless Holy-.
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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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Success hath made me wanton.
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O, for an engine, to keep back all clocks, or make the sun forget his motion!
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Spread yourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private.
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Whom the disease of talking still once posses-seth, he can never hold his peace.
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Court a mistress, she denies you let her alone, she will court you.
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Woman, the more careful she is about her face, the more careless about her house.
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True melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit.
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Where it concerns himself, Who's angry at a slander, makes it true.
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Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!
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Rich apparel has strange virtues it makes him that hath it without means esteemed for an excellent wit he that enjoys it with means puts the world in remembrance of his means.
Ben Jonson