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The day breaks not, it is my heart.
John Donne
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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
Pastor
Poet
Politician
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London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
Break
Heart
Breaks
More quotes by John Donne
Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
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Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.
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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!
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Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
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Let me arrest thy thoughts, wonder with me, Why ploughing, building, ruling and the rest, Or most of those arts, whence our lives are blessed, By cursed Cain's race invented be, And blessed Seth vexed us with astronomy.
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There is hook in every benefit, that sticks in his jaws that takes that benefit, and draws him whither the benefactor will.
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
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I count all that part of my life lost which I spent not in communion with God, or in doing good.
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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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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.
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Poor heretics there be,Which think to establish dangerous constancy,But I have told them, ‘Since you will be true,You shall be true to them, who are false to you.
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Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock breathe, shine, and seek to mend That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
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The sun must not set upon anger, much less will I let the sun set upon the anger of God towards me.
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Friends are ourselves.
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All other things to their destruction draw, Only our love hath no decay.
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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
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Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
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Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.
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