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What is our life? A play of passion. Our mirth the music of division. Our mother's wombs the tyring houses be, Where we are drest for this short Comedy.

Walter Raleigh

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Walter Raleigh
Died: 1618
Died: October 29
Explorer
Knight
Poet
Politician
Spy
Writer
East Budleigh
Devon
Sir Walter Raleigh
Sir Walter Ralegh
Walter Ralegh
Walter
Sir Raleigh
Short
Comedy
Passion
Drest
House
Wombs
Mother
Mirth
Music
Womb
Play
Houses
Life
Division

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Our souls, piercing through the impurity of flesh, behold the highest heaven, and thence bring knowledge to contemplate the ever-during, glory and termless joy.
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An anthology is like all the plums and orange peel picked out of a cake.
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It were better for a man to be subject to any vice than to drunkenness for all other vanities and sins are recovered, but a drunkard will never shake off the delight of beastliness.
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Our shipping and sea service is our best and safest defence as being the only fortification and rampart of England.
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Remember, that if thou marry for beauty, thou bindest thyself all thy life for that which, perchance, will never last nor please thee one year and when thou hast it, it will be to thee of no price at all.
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Because all men are apt to flatter themselves, to entertain the addition of other men's praises is most perilous.
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Fain would I, but I dare not I dare, and yet I may not I may, although I care not, for pleasure when I play not.
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A wandering minstrel I A thing of shreds and patches Of ballads, songs and snatches And dreamy lullaby!
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Whosoever in writing a modern history shall follow the truth too near the heels it may haply strike out his teeth.
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Give my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
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The bodies of men, munition, and money may justly be called the sinews of war.
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Who so desireth to know what will be hereafter, let him think of what is past, for the world hath ever been in a circular revolution whatsoever is now, was heretofore and things past or present, are no other than such as shall be again: Redit orbis in orbem.
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If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love.
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It is the nature of men having escaped one extreme, which by force they were constrained long to endure, to run headlong into the other extreme, forgetting that virtue doth always consist in the mean.
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So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lieth.
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Hath triumphed over time, which besides it nothing but eternity hath triumphed over.
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The difference between a rich man and a poor man is this--the former eats when he pleases, and the latter when he can get it.
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All histories do show, and wise politicians do hold it necessary that, for the well-governing of every Commonweal, it behoveth man to presuppose that all men are evil, and will declare themselves so to be when occasion is offered.
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But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.
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Love likes not the falling fruit, Nor the withered tree.
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