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Verse hath a middle nature: heaven keeps souls, The grave keeps bodies, verse the fame enrols.

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
Nature
Grave
Body
Graves
Soul
Bodies
Souls
Keeps
Fame
Verse
Middle
Verses
Heaven
Hath

More quotes by 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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Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
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Great sorrows cannot speak.
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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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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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'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's.
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As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.
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O how feeble is man's power, that if good fortune fall, cannot add another hour, nor a lost hour recall!
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To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend, All is the purlieu of the god of love.
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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.
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That thou remember them, some claim as debt I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.
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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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Lust-bred diseases rot thee.
John Donne
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Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
John Donne
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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.
John Donne
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In the first minute that my soul is infused, the Image of God is imprinted in my soul so forward is God in my behalf, and so early does he visit me.
John Donne
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
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If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two, Thy soul the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the other do.
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Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
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