Quote

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.

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
Break
Shine
Force
Burn
Three
Rise
May
Shining
Heart
Breathe
Batter
Make
Blow
Mend
Seek
Bend
Stand
Knock

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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
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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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I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
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I will not look upon the quickening sun, But straight her beauty to my sense shall run The air shall note her soft, the fire most pure Water suggest her clear, and the earth sure Time shall not lose our passages.
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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.
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Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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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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When God's hand is bent to strike, it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God but to fall out of the hands of the living God is a horror beyond our expression, beyond our imagination.
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Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by it and made fit for God.
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Of all the commentaries on the Scriptures, good examples are the best.
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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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And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
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Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
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And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
John Donne
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. . . Change is the nursery Of musicke, joy, life and eternity.
John Donne
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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.
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And new Philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out the Sun is lost, and the earth, and no mans wit can well direct him where to look for it.
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The Phoenix riddle hath more wit By us, we two being one, are it. So to one neutral thing both sexes fit, We die and rise the same, and prove Mysterious by this love.
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I have done one braver thing than all the Worthies did, and yet a braver thence doth spring, which is, to keep that hid.
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