black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

John Donne

In the first minute that my soul is infused, the Image of God is imprinted in my soul; so forward is God in my behalf, and so early does he visit me.
JOHN DONNE

God Image Myself Soul Visit
I do not love a man, except I hate his vices, because those vices are the enemies, and the destruction of that friend whom I love.
JOHN DONNE

Enemy Exception Friendship God Love Man Myself Vice
To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.
JOHN DONNE

Expression Feeling Grave Human Thinking Word
I sing the progress of a deathless soul.
JOHN DONNE

Death Myself One Liner Progress Sing Soul
For love all love of other sights controls and makes one little room an everywhere.
JOHN DONNE

Control Love Oneself Room
Solitude is a torment which is not threatened in hell itself.
JOHN DONNE

Hell Solitude Threat
How great love is, presence best trial makes, But absence tries how long this love will be.
JOHN DONNE

Absence Greatness Love Presence
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we lov’d?
JOHN DONNE

Life Love Myself Wonder
As God loves a cheerful giver, so he also loves a cheerful taker. Who takes hold of his gifts with a glad heart.
JOHN DONNE

Gift God Happiness Heart Love
Death is an ascension to a better library.
JOHN DONNE

Better Death Library
O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.
JOHN DONNE

God Need Stand Suffering Thinking
Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.
JOHN DONNE

Art Build Creation Poetry
Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.
JOHN DONNE

Man Responsibility Work
How much shall I be changed, before I am changed!
JOHN DONNE

Change Deep Myself
One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
JOHN DONNE

Death Forever Past Short Sleep Wake Up
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
JOHN DONNE

Death God Kill Myself Poor Proud Thinking

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More John Donne Quotes