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For I am every dead thing, In whom love wrought new alchemy. For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness, From dull privations, and lean emptiness He ruined me, and I am re-begot Of absence, darkness, death; things which are not.
John Donne
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Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.
John Donne
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
John Donne
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As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.
John Donne
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Hee drinkes misery, and he tastes happinesse; he mowes misery, and he gleanes happinesse; he journeys in misery, he does but walke in happinesse.
John Donne
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Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
John Donne
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She, and comparisons are odious.
John Donne
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Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.
John Donne
