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Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
John Donne
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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
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Poet
Politician
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London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
Hours
Clime
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Love
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Seasons
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More quotes by John Donne
Men are sponges, which, to pour out, receive Who know false play, rather than lose, deceive. For in best understandings sin began, Angels sinn'd first, then devils, and then man. Only perchance beasts sin not wretched we Are beasts in all but white integrity.
John Donne
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.
John Donne
And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
John Donne
It is too little to call man a little world Except God, man is a diminutive to nothing.
John Donne
And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
John Donne
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damned alas why should I be?
John Donne
Kind pity chokes my spleen.
John Donne
Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
John Donne
And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
John Donne
The difference between the reason of man and the instinct of the beast is this, that the beast does but know, but the man knows that he knows.
John Donne
There is hook in every benefit, that sticks in his jaws that takes that benefit, and draws him whither the benefactor will.
John Donne
When my mouth shall be filled with dust, and the worm shall feed, and feed sweetly upon me, when the ambitious man shall have no satisfaction if the poorest alive tread upon him, nor the poorest receive any contentment in being made equal to princes, for they shall be equal but in dust.
John Donne
I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
John Donne
Tis true, 'tis day what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise, because 'tis light? Did we lie down, because 'twas night? Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither Should in despite of light keep us together.
John Donne
To roam Giddily, and be everywhere but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become.
John Donne
To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend, All is the purlieu of the god of love.
John Donne
That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither but an obscenity.
John Donne
Between these two, the denying of sins, which we have done, and the bragging of sins, which we have not done, what a space, what a compass is there, for millions of millions of sins!
John Donne
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
John Donne
When I died last, and, Dear, I die As often as from thee I go Though it be but an hour ago, And lovers' hours be full eternity.
John Donne
