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Enjoyment always has a spoiling, otherwise it cannot be 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
Spoiling
Enjoyment
Otherwise
Joy
Happiness
Cannot
Always

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Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
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A man that is not afraid of a Lion is afraid of a Cat .
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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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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Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so, when thou art gone.
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Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance.
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Let man's soul be a sphere, and then, in this, The intelligence that moves, devotion is.
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Love is a growing, or full constant light And his first minute, after noon, is night.
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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?
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I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to be dead, but win me, and overcome me. When I must shipwreck, I would do it in a sea, where mine impotency might have some excuse not in a sullen weedy lake, where I could not have so much as exercise for my swimming.
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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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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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Lust-bred diseases rot thee.
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Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.
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Can there be worse sickness, than to know that we are never well, nor can be so?
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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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Of all the commentaries on the Scriptures, good examples are the best.
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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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Friends are ourselves.
John Donne
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To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
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