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Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance.

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
Integrity
Clean
Either
Sleep
Night
Hands
Washed
Repentance
Kept

More quotes by John Donne

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In heaven it is always autumn.
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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.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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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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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.
John Donne
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Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
John Donne
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God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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The flea, though he kill none, he does all the harm he can.
John Donne
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Send home my long strayed eyes to me, Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee.
John Donne
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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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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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Kind pity chokes my spleen.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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. . . Change is the nursery Of musicke, joy, life and eternity.
John Donne
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Death, thou shalt die.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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God is so omnipresent. . . . God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.
John Donne