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.
BEN JONSONThy praise or dispraise is to me alike; One doth not stroke me, nor the other strike.
More Ben Jonson Quotes
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Tis the common disease of all your musicians that they know no mean, to be entreated, either to begin or end.
BEN JONSON -
Guilt’s a terrible thing.
BEN JONSON -
You learn nothing about someone by the way they win the fight, you learn everything about the way they lose and keep coming back.
BEN JONSON -
How Fortune piles her sports when she begins to practise them!
BEN JONSON -
Blueness doth express trueness.
BEN JONSON -
Mischiefs feed / Like beasts, till they be fat, and then they bleed.
BEN JONSON -
The man that is once hated, both his good and his evil deeds oppress him.
BEN JONSON -
Cut Men’s throats with whisperings.
BEN JONSON -
Follow a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men?
BEN JONSON -
One woman reads another’s character Without the tedious trouble of deciphering
BEN JONSON -
A new disease? I know not, new or old, but it may well be called poor mortals plague for, like a pestilence, it doth infect the houses of the brain till not a thought, or motion, in the mind, be free from the black poison of suspect.
BEN JONSON -
The pipe marks the point at which the orangutan ends and man begins.
BEN JONSON -
The burnt child dreads the fire.
BEN JONSON -
Princes that would their people should do well Must at themselves begin, as at the head; For men, by their example, pattern out Their limitations, and regard of laws: A virtuous court a world to virtue draws.
BEN JONSON -
Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast, Still to be powder’d, all perfum’d. Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art’s hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound.
BEN JONSON