Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
EDMUND SPENSERFor if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
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Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love’s delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
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Unhappie Verse, the witnesse of my unhappie state, Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying Thought.
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What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?
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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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But times do change and move continually.
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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
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All for love, and nothing for reward.
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All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.
EDMUND SPENSER