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Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.

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
Indiscreet
Wicked
Worse
Much

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Old grandsires talk of yesterday with sorrow, And for our children we reserve tomorrow.
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But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.
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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
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As God loves a cheerful giver, so he also loves a cheerful taker. Who takes hold of his gifts with a glad heart.
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When I died last, and, Dear, I die As often as from thee I go Though it be but an hour ago, And lovers' hours be full eternity.
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.
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And when a whirl-winde hath blowne the dust of the Churchyard into the Church, and man sweeps out the dust of the Church into the Church-yard, who will undertake to sift those dusts again, and to pronounce, This is the Patrician, this is the noble flower, and this the yeomanly, this the Plebian bran.
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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
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When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
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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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Never start with tomorrow to reach eternity. Eternity is not being reached by small steps.
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Men are sponges, which, to pour out, receive Who know false play, rather than lose, deceive. For in best understandings sin began, Angels sinn'd first, then devils, and then man. Only perchance beasts sin not wretched we Are beasts in all but white integrity.
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All other things to their destruction draw, Only our love hath no decay.
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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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we give each other a smile with a future in it
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God made sun and moon to distinguish the seasons, and day and night and we cannot have the fruits of the earth but in their seasons. But God hath made no decrees to distinguish the seasons of His mercies. In Paradise the fruits were ripe the first minute, and in heaven it is always autumn. His mercies are ever in their maturity.
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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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I am a little world made cunningly.
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If we consider eternity, into that time never entered eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period and eternity had been the same as it is, though time had never been.
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