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The place of charity, like that of God, is everywhere.

Francis Quarles

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Francis Quarles
Age: 52 †
Born: 1592
Born: May 8
Died: 1644
Died: September 8
Author
Poet
Writer
Havering
Everywhere
Place
Like
Charity

More quotes by Francis Quarles

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In the height of thy prosperity expect adversity, but fear it not. If it come not, thou art the more sweetly possessed of the happiness thou hast, and the more strongly confirmed. If it come, thou art the more gently dispossessed of the happiness thou hadst, and the more firmly prepared.
Francis Quarles
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Before thou reprehend another, take heed thou art not culpable in what thou goest about to reprehend. He that cleanses a blot with blotted fingers makes a greater blur.
Francis Quarles
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Knowledge descries wisdom applies.
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The average person's ear weighs what you are, not what you were.
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The fountain of beauty is the heart and every generous thought illustrates the walls of your chamber.
Francis Quarles
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Heav'n is not always got by running.
Francis Quarles
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Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear?
Francis Quarles
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Lust is a sharp spur to vice, which always putteth the affections into a false gallop.
Francis Quarles
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Mark, how the ready hands of Death prepare: His bow is bent, and he hath notch'd his dart He aims, he levels at thy slumb'ring heart: The wound is posting, O be wise, beware.
Francis Quarles
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Nothing is more pleasing to God than an open hand, and a closed mouth.
Francis Quarles
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Death aims with fouler spiteAt fairer marks.
Francis Quarles
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False world, thou ly'st: thou canst not lend The least delight: Thy favours cannot gain a friend, They are so slight.
Francis Quarles
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The World's a Printing-House, our words, our thoughts, Our deeds, are characters of several sizes. Each soul is a Compos'tor, of whose faults The Levites are Correctors Heaven Revises. Death is the common Press, from whence being driven, We're gather'd, Sheet by Sheet, and bound for Heaven.
Francis Quarles
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Even as the needle that directs the hour, (Touched with the loadstone) by the secret power Of hidden Nature, points upon the pole Even so the wavering powers of my soul, Touch'd by the virtue of Thy spirit, flee From what is earth, and point alone to Thee.
Francis Quarles
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If thou wouldst be justified, acknowledge thine injustice. He that confesses his sin, begins his journey toward salvation. He that is sorry for it, mends his pace. He that forsakes it, is at his journey's end.
Francis Quarles
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Tis not, to cry God mercy, or to sit And droop, or to confess that thou hast fail'd: 'Tis to bewail the sins thou didst commit: And not commit those sins thou hast bewail' d. He that bewails and not forsakes them too Confesses rather what he means to do.
Francis Quarles
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Gold is Caesar's treasure, man is God's thy gold hath Caesar's image, and thou hast God's.
Francis Quarles
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My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger In these false coasts O keep aloof there's danger Cast forth thy plummet see, a rock appears Thy ships want sea-room make it with thy tears.
Francis Quarles
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Take heed thou trust not the deceitful lap Of wanton Dalilah the world's a trap.
Francis Quarles
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Too much is a vanity enough is a feast.
Francis Quarles