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See, the curse of children! In life they keep us frequently in tears, And in the cold grave leave us in pale fears.

John Webster

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John Webster
Age: 56 †
Born: 1578
Born: January 1
Died: 1634
Died: January 1
Dramatist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
London
England
Curse
Fears
Tears
Cold
Leave
Frequently
Keep
Pale
Children
Grave
Life
Graves

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Vain the ambition of kings Who seek by trophies and dead things To leave a living name behind, And weave but nets to catch the wind.
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I account this world a tedious theater, For I do play a part in 't 'gainst my will.
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When we prohibit others from being different, we end up forfeiting our own right to Liberty.
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How many ills spring from adultery? First the supreme law that is violated, Nobility oft stain'd with bastardy, Inheritance of land falsely possessed, The husband scorn'd, wife sham'd, and babes unbless'd.
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Were there no heaven nor hell I should be honest.
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I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set Our foot upon some reverend history.
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Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.
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The soul was never put in the body to stand still.
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Man may his fate foresee, but not prevent. 'Tis better to be fortunate than wise.
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The misery of us, that are born great, We are forced to woo because none dare woo us.
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Heaven fashioned us of nothing and we strive to bring ourselves to nothing.
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For the subtlest folly proceeds from the subtlest wisdom.
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Knowledge Is Power! Train smart and obtain power!
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Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise.
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I have long served virtue, And never ta'en wages of her.
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Gold that buys health can never be ill spent, Nor hours laid out in harmless merriment.
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Oh, yes, thy sins Do run before thee to fetch fire from hell, To light thee thither.
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Cowardly dogs bark loudest.
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Woman to man Is either a God or a wolfe.
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That realm is never long in quiet, where the ruler is a soldier.
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