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My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.

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
Parts
Dies
Must
World

More quotes by John Donne

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If every gnat that flies were an archangel, all that could but tell me that there is a God and the poorest worm that creeps tells me that.
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Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.
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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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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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. . . Change is the nursery Of musicke, joy, life and eternity.
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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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Love is a growing, or full constant light And his first minute, after noon, is night.
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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
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The flea, though he kill none, he does all the harm he can.
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Who are a little wise the best fools be.
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When God's hand is bent to strike, it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God but to fall out of the hands of the living God is a horror beyond our expression, beyond our imagination.
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To roam Giddily, and be everywhere but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become.
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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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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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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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No man is an island, entire of itself every man is a piece of the continent.
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Poor heretics there be,Which think to establish dangerous constancy,But I have told them, ‘Since you will be true,You shall be true to them, who are false to you.
John Donne
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When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
John Donne
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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
John Donne