Quotes from John Donne

Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore My love was infinite, if spring makes it more.

If that be simply perfectest Which can by no way be expresst But negatives, my love is so. To All, which all love, I say no. Negative Love

O! I shall soon despair, when I shall see That Thou lovest mankind well, yet wilt not choose me, And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.

As Sicknesse is the greatest misery, so the greatest misery of sicknes is solitude; when the infectiousness of the disease deterss them who should assist from coming; even the Phisician dares scarse come... it is an Outlawry, and excommunication upon the patient....

I wonder, by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we lov'd.

But, O alas! so long, so far, Our bodies why do we forbear?

Twice or thrice had I lov'd thee, Before I knew thy face or name

My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.

All other things to their destruction draw, Only our love hath no decay...

Changed loves are but changed sorts of meat, And when he hath the kernel eat, Who doth not fling away the shell?

I think it mercy if Thou wilt forget.

Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone, All just supply, and all relation; Prince, subject, father, son, are things forgot, For every man alone thinks he hath got To be a phoenix, and that then can be None of that kind, of which he is, but he.

It sucked me first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;

I am the dust and the ashes of the temple of the Holy Ghost, and what marble is so precious? But I am more than dust and ashes: I am my best part, I am my soul.

Nature hath no goal, though she hath law.

Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.

No man is an island, no man stands alone . . . Each man's death diminishes me, because I am involved with mankind . . .

If that be simply perfectest Which can by no way be expressed But negatives, my love is so. To all which all love, I say no. If any who deciphers best What we know not, ourselves, can know Let him teach me that nothing.

Send not to know For whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more, death thou shalt die.

Any man's death diminishes me, for I am involved with mankind.

Dear love, for nothing less than thee Would I have broke this happy dream; It was a theme For reason, much too strong for fantasy, Therefore thou wak'd'st me wisely; yet My dream thou brok'st not, but continued'st it. Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice To make dreams truths, and fables histories; Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best, Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.

Contemplative and bookish men must of necessity be more quarrelsome than others, because neither do they contend about matters of fact nor can they determine their controversies by any certain witnesses or judges.

GO AND CATCH A FALLING STAR.