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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Better
Borne
Deeds
Evil
Words
May

More quotes by Edmund Spenser

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Greatest god below the sky.
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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
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Oft stumbles at a straw.
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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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The noblest mind the best contentment has
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For take thy ballaunce if thou be so wise, And weigh the winds that under heaven doth blow Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow.
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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
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Laws ought to be fashioned unto the manners and conditions of the people whom they are meant to benefit, and not imposed upon them according to the simple rule of right.
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Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancor's rusty knife And fretting grief the enemy of life All these and many evils more, haunt ire.
Edmund Spenser
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I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.
Edmund Spenser
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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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For if good were not praised more than ill, None would chuse goodness of his own free will.
Edmund Spenser
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So Orpheus did for his owne bride, So I unto my selfe alone will sing, The woods shall to me answer and my Eccho ring.
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Fly from wrath sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
Edmund Spenser
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Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease,And layes the soul to sleepe in quiet grave?Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please.
Edmund Spenser
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Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
Edmund Spenser