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I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.

John Donne

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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
Pastor
Poet
Politician
Songwriter
Translator
Writer
London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
Whining
Foolishness
Fools
Loving
Fool
Saying
Two
Love

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Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
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Commemoration of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator of the Scriptures, 1922 A memory of yesterday's pleasures, a fear of tomorrow's dangers, a straw under my knees, a noise in my ear, a light in my eye, an anything, a nothing, a fancy, a chimera in my brain, troubles me in my prayers.
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Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
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God employs several translators some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
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What gnashing is not a comfort, what gnawing of the worm is not a tickling, what torment is not a marriage bed to this damnation, to be secluded eternally, eternally, eternally from the sight of God?
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God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.
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Religion is not a melancholy, the spirit of God is not a damper.
John Donne
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And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
John Donne
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There is no health physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
John Donne
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My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.
John Donne
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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.
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At most, the greatest persons are but great wens, and excrescences men of wit and delightful conversation, but as morals for ornament, except they be so incorporated into the body of the world that they contribute something to the sustentation of the whole.
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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.
John Donne
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Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
John Donne
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Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best, To use my self in jest Thus by feign'd deaths to die.
John Donne
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I shall die reading since my book and a grave are so near.
John Donne
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Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so, when thou art gone.
John Donne
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If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two, Thy soul the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the other do.
John Donne
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When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
John Donne