Quote

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?

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
Envy
Goats
Fruit
Poisonous
Whose
Serpent
Tree
Envious
Death
Threw
Else
Damned
Lecherous
Cannot
Alas
Serpents
Immortal
Minerals

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Oft from new truths, and new phrase, new doubts grow, As strange attire aliens the men we know.
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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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'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's.
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In heaven it is always autumn.
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I am a little world made cunningly.
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Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
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To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
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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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And if there be any addition to knowledge, it is rather a new knowledge than a greater knowledge rather a singularity in a desire of proposing something that was not knownat all beforethananimproving, anadvancing, a multiplying of former inceptions and by that means, no knowledge comes to be perfect.
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It is too little to call man a little world Except God, man is a diminutive to nothing.
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Licence my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.
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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls **** All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.
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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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God employs several translators some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
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I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
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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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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
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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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