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It is too little to call man a little world Except God, man is a diminutive to nothing.

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
Diminutive
Except
Call
Littles
Little
Nothing
Men
World

More quotes by John Donne

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Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
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True joy is the earnest which we have of heaven, it is the treasure of the soul, and therefore should be laid in a safe place, and nothing in this world is safe to place it in.
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And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
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Commemoration of Richard Meux Benson, Founder of the Society of St John the Evangelist, 1915 Our critical day is not the very day of our death, but the whole course of our life I thank him, that prays for me when my bell tolls but I thank him much more, that catechizes me, or preaches to me, or instructs me how to live.
John Donne
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Nature hath no goal though she hath law.
John Donne
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
John Donne
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I have done one braver thing than all the Worthies did, and yet a braver thence doth spring, which is, to keep that hid.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither but an obscenity.
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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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
John Donne
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I shall not live 'till I see God and when I have seen Him, I shall never 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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Let man's soul be a sphere, and then, in this, The intelligence that moves, devotion is.
John Donne
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
John Donne
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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?
John Donne
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Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
John Donne
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Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
John Donne
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Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.
John Donne