Philip Massinger Quotes
-
Virtue, if not in action, is a vice,And, when we move not forward, we go backward.
-
Out, you impostors!Quack-salving, cheating mountebanks! Your skillIs to make sound men sick, and sick men kill.
-
Malice scorned, puts out itself; but argued, give a kind of credit to a false accusation.
-
I had not to this time subsisted, but that I was supported by your frequent courtesies and favours.
-
Patience, the beggar's virtue, shall find no harbor here.
-
What a bridgeOf glass I walk upon, over a riverOf certain ruin! Mine own weighty fearsCracking what should support me:-And those helps,Which confidence yields to others, are from meRavish'd by doubts, and wilful jealousy.
-
True dignity is never gained by place, and never lost when honors are withdrawn.
-
Be wise; soar not too high to fall; but stoop to rise.
-
But in our Sanazarro 'tis not so,He being pure and tried gold; and any stampOf grace, to make him current to the world,The duke is pleased to give him, will add honourTo the great bestower; for he, though allow'dCompanion to his master, still preservesHis majesty in full lustre.
-
He is not valiant that dares die, but he that boldly bears calamity.
-
He that would govern others, first should be Master of himself.
-
The good needs fear no law,It is his safety and the bad man's awe.
-
The oath in any way or form you please,I stand resolv'd to take it.
-
To doubt is worse than to have lost; and to despair is but to antedate those miseries that must fall on us.
-
What a seaOf melting ice I walk on!
-
Many good purposes lie in the churchyard.
-
Grim death.
-
Quiet night that bringsRest to the labourer, is the outlaw's day,In which he rises early to do wrong,And when his work is ended, dares not sleep.
-
Like a rough orator, that brings more truthThan rhetoric, to make good his accusation.
-
Ambition, in a private man is a vice, is in a prince the virtue.
-
This many-headed monster,The giddy multitude.
-
Let us love temperately, things violent last not.
-
Cause me no causes.
-
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,And takes away the use of it; and my sword,Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,Will not be drawn.