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Whilst that the childe is young, let him be instructed in vertue and lytterature.
John Lyly
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John Lyly
Died: 1606
Died: November 18
Novelist
Playwright
Politician
Writer
Kent
England
John Lilly
John Lylie
John Lyly
Young
Instructed
Whilst
Teaching
More quotes by John Lyly
Let the falling out of friends be a renewing of affection.
John Lyly
To love and to live well is wished of many, but incident to few.
John Lyly
To give reason for fancy were to weigh the fire, and measure the wind.
John Lyly
Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.
John Lyly
If all the earth were paper white / And all the sea were ink / 'Twere not enough for me to write / As my poor heart doth think.
John Lyly
The wound that bleedeth inward is most dangerous.
John Lyly
Marriage is destinie, made in heaven.
John Lyly
When parents put gold into the hands of youth, when they should put a rod under their girdle--when instead of awe they make them past grace, and leave them rich executors of goods, and poor executors of godliness, then it is no marvel that the son being left rich by his father's will, becomes reckless by his own will.
John Lyly
To love women and never enjoy them, is as much to love wine and never taste it.
John Lyly
A merry companion is as good as a wagon, For you shall be sure to ride though ye go a foot.
John Lyly
It is the eye of the master that fatteth the horse, and the love of the woman that maketh the man.
John Lyly
The greatest harm that you can do unto the envious, is to do well.
John Lyly
The rattling thunderbolt hath but his clap, the lightning but his flash, and as they both come in a moment, so do they both end in a minute.
John Lyly
Where the streame runneth smoothest, the water is deepest.
John Lyly
I am of this mind, that might and malice, deceit and treachery perjury and impiety may lawfully be committed in love which is lawless.
John Lyly
He that loseth his honesty hath nothing else to lose.
John Lyly
As the best wine doth make the sharpest vinegar, so the deepest love turns to the deadliest hate.
John Lyly
The finest edge is made with the blunt whetstone.
John Lyly
I thank you for nothing, because I understand nothing.
John Lyly
None but the lark so shrill and clear Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings.
John Lyly