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Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?
Philip Sidney
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Philip Sidney
Age: 31 †
Born: 1554
Born: November 30
Died: 1586
Died: October 17
Diplomat
Military Personnel
Novelist
Poet
Politician
Kent
England
Sir Philip Sidney
Doth
Scorn
Possess
Lovers
Virtue
Call
Love
More quotes by Philip Sidney
Some are unwisely liberal, and more delight to give presents than to pay debts.
Philip Sidney
Take thou of me, sweet pillowes, sweetest bed A chamber deafe of noise, and blind of light, A rosie garland and a weary hed.
Philip Sidney
Truth is the ground of science, the centre wherein all things repose, and is the type of eternity.
Philip Sidney
There is nothing evil but what is within us the rest is either natural or accidental.
Philip Sidney
O sweet woods, the delight of solitariness!
Philip Sidney
It is hard, but it is excellent, to find the right knowledge of when correction is necessary and when grace doth most avail.
Philip Sidney
It is against womanhood to be forward in their own wishes.
Philip Sidney
The truly great man is as apt to forgive as his power is able to revenge.
Philip Sidney
Music, I say, the most divine striker of the senses.
Philip Sidney
He whom passion rules, is bent to meet his death.
Philip Sidney
In the performance of a good action, we not only benefit ourselves, but we confer a blessing upon others.
Philip Sidney
Fear is far more painful to cowardice than death to true courage.
Philip Sidney
It is no less vain to wish death than it is cowardly to fear it.
Philip Sidney
Fear is the underminer of all determinations and necessity, the victorious rebel of all laws.
Philip Sidney
Who shoots at the mid-day sun, though he be so sure he shall never hit the mark, yet as sure as he is, he shall shoot higher than he who aims at a bush.
Philip Sidney
The many-headed multitude, whom inconstancy only doth by accident guide to well-doing! Who can set confidence there, where company takes away shame, and each may lay the fault upon his fellow?
Philip Sidney
It many times falls out that we deem ourselves much deceived in others because we first deceived ourselves.
Philip Sidney
Sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge.
Philip Sidney
But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay Invention, Nature's child, fled stepdame Study's blows And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way. Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart, and write.
Philip Sidney
With a tale, forsooth, he cometh unto you with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney corner.
Philip Sidney