John Donne

78 posts

John Donne

John Donne

@johndonne

I am two fools, I know, for loving, and for saying so in whining poetry

St Paul's Cathedral, London Katılım Şubat 2009
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
As sickness is the greatest misery, so the greatest misery of sickness is solitude; when the infectiousness of the disease deters them who should assist from coming; even the physician dares scarce come. Solitude is a torment which is not threatened in hell itself.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
For it hath so much of a continual cramp, that it wrests the sinews... but it will not kill me yet; I shall be in this world, like a porter in a great house, ever nearest the door, but seldomest abroad: I shall have many things to make me weary, and yet not get leave to be gone.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Now, when the client, whose last hearing is To-morrow, sleeps; when the condemned man, Who, when he opes his eyes, must shut them then Again by death, although sad watch he keep, Doth practice dying by a little sleep
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Thou, sun, art half as happy as we, In that the world's contracted thus. Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be To warm the world, that's done in warming us. Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere; This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, 
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell; 
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well 
And better than thy stroke.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were:
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Let me prepare towards her, and let me call This hour her vigil, and her eve, since this Both the year’s, and the day’s deep midnight is.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Who will believe me, if I swear That I have had the plague a year? Who would not laugh at me, if I should say I saw a flash of powder burn a day?
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
He swallows us and never chaws ; By him, as by chain’d shot, whole ranks do die ; He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
He that desires to print a book, should much more desire, to be a book.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
I observe the physician with the same diligence as he the disease... I fear the more, because he disguises his fear, and I see it with the more sharpness, because he would not have me see it.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like the other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
The love of place, and precedency, it rocks us in our cradles, it lies down with us in our graves.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
And, after all this passed purgatory, Must sad divorce make us the vulgar story?
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Keep the truth which thou hast found; men do not stand In so ill case, that God hath with his hand Sign'd kings' blank charters to kill whom they hate
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
What if this present were the world’s last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
I have lov'd, and got, and told, But should I love, get, tell, till I were old, I should not find that hidden mystery.
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John Donne
John Donne@johndonne·
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men
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