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Eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period.
John Donne
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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
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London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
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Eternity
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So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.
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And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
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The distance from nothing to a little, is ten thousand times more, than from it to the highest degree in this life.
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Licence my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.
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Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?
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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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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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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.
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That thou remember them, some claim as debt I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.
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Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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Of all the commentaries on the Scriptures, good examples are the best.
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Keep us, Lord, so awake in the duties of our calling that we may sleep in thy peace and wake in thy glory.
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This Extasie doth unperplex (We said) and tell us what we love, Wee see by this, it was not sexe, Wee see, we saw not what did move: But as all severall soules contain Mixture of things, they know not what, Love, these mixt souls, doth mixe againe. Loves mysteries in soules doe grow, But yet the body is his booke.
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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
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One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more Death, thou shalt die.
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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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God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.
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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.
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Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls it tolls for thee.
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