Quote

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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Francis Quarles
Age: 52 †
Born: 1592
Born: May 8
Died: 1644
Died: September 8
Author
Poet
Writer
Havering
Cannot
Favour
World
Gain
False
Thou
Delight
Favours
Gains
Canst
Friend
Lend
Least
Slight

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Reason can discover things only near,--sees nothing that's above her.
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He that hath no cross deserves no crown.
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Scandal breeds hatred hatred begets division division makes faction, and faction brings ruin.
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A despairing heart is the true prophet of approaching evil his actions may weave the webs of Fortune, but not break them.
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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.
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O who would trust this world, or prize what's in it, That gives and takes, and chops and changes, ev'ry minute?
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Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.
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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.
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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.
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Let grace conduct thee to the paths of peace.
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Meditation is the life of the soul: Action, the soul of meditation and honor the reward of action.
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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.
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Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance of hatred turns malice.
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Wrinkle not thy face with too much laughter, lest thou become ridiculous neither wanton thy heart with too much mirth, lest thou become vain: the suburbs of folly is vain mirth, and profuseness of laughter is the city of fools.
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Proportion thy charity to the strength of thine estate, lest God proportion thine estate to the weakness of thy charity. Let the lips of the poor be the trumpet of thy gift, lest in seeking applause, thou lose thy reward. Nothing is more pleasing to God than an open hand and a closed mouth.
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Poor thieves in halters we behold And great thieves in their chains of gold.
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That friendship will not continue to the end which is begun for an end.
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Too much is a vanity enough is a feast.
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If thou desire to purchase honor with thy wealth, consider first how that wealth became thine if thy labor got it, let thy wisdom keep it if oppression found it, let repentance restore it if thy parent left it, let thy virtues deserve it so shall thy honor be safer, better and cheaper.
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I wish thee as much pleasure in the reading, as I had in the writing.
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