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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.

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
Littles
Degree
Little
Ten
Nothing
Degrees
Distance
Life
Highest
Thousand
Progress
Times

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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?
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We love and understand talent we wish it be within us. The truly gifted, those exceptional few, must wait for the world to catch up.
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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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If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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Nature hath no goal though she hath law.
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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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Oft from new truths, and new phrase, new doubts grow, As strange attire aliens the men we know.
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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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A man that is not afraid of a Lion is afraid of a Cat .
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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 will not look upon the quickening sun, But straight her beauty to my sense shall run The air shall note her soft, the fire most pure Water suggest her clear, and the earth sure Time shall not lose our passages.
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Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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Love is a growing, or full constant light And his first minute, after noon, is night.
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Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.
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To roam Giddily, and be everywhere but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become.
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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
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Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
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As he that fears God fears nothing else, so he that sees God sees everything else.
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I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to be dead, but win me, and overcome me. When I must shipwreck, I would do it in a sea, where mine impotency might have some excuse not in a sullen weedy lake, where I could not have so much as exercise for my swimming.
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