Ben Jonson Quotes
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Thou look'st like Antichrist in that lewd hat.
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Preserving the sweetness of proportion and expressing itself beyond expression.
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Those that merely talk and never think, That live in the wild anarchy of drink.
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That Donne himself, for not being understood, would perish.
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As he brews, so shall he drink.
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I now think, Love is rather deaf, than blind, For else it could not be, That she, Whom I adore so much, should so slight me, And cast my love behind.
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It must be done like lightning.
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Not to know vice at all, and keep true state, Is virtue, and not fate: Next to that virtue is to know vice well, And her black spite expel.
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For if I thought my judgment were of years, I should commit thee surely with thy peers, And tell how far thou didst our Lily outshine, Or sporting Kyd, or Marlow's mighty line. And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek, From thence to honour thee, I will not seek For names…
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Have paid scot and lot there any time this eighteen years.
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Still to be powder'd, still perfum'd, Lady, it is to be presum'd, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free, Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art: They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
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I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honor to Shakespeare, that in his writing, whatsoever he penned, he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, 'Would he had blotted a thousand'.
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Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright.
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Opinion is a light, vain, crude, and imperfect thing.
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Come my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys.
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Follow a shadow, it still flies you; Seem to fly it, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you.
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Courses even with the sun Doth her mighty brother run.
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The Devil is an Ass, I do acknowledge it.
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They say princes learn no art truly, but the art of horsemanship. The reason is, the brave beast is no flatterer. He will throw a prince as soon as his groom.
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Lady: How do's it fit? wilt come together? Prudence: Hardly. Lad: Thou must make shift with it. Pride feels no Pain.
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There's reason good, that you good laws should make: Men's manners ne'er were viler, for your sake.
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Thus, in his belly, can he change a sin, Lust it comes out, that gluttony went in.
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I loved the man and do honor his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any.
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Art hath an enemy call'd ignorance.