black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

In heaven it is always autumn.

John Donne

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
JOHN DONNE

Love Season Time
Art is the most passionate orgy within man’s grasp.
JOHN DONNE

Art Compassionate Hold Man
Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
JOHN DONNE

Despair Heaven Hell Joy
Love was as subtly caught, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, for though ‘Tis got by chance, ‘Tis kept by art.
JOHN DONNE

Art Hard Love Sick Sweet Treasure
I count all that part of my life lost which I spent not in communion with God, or in doing good.
JOHN DONNE

Count God Goodness Life Myself
Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.
JOHN DONNE

Love Myself Oneself Sin
Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.
JOHN DONNE

Alcohol Drink Honesty Leadership
Reason is our soul’s left hand, Faith her right, By these we reach divinity
JOHN DONNE

Divine Hands Ourselves Reason Soul
God is so omnipresent. God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.
JOHN DONNE

Angel God Present Stone Straw
As he that fears God fears nothing else, so he that sees God sees everything else.
JOHN DONNE

Fear God Himself See
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
JOHN DONNE

Beginning Humility One Liner Satisfaction
God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
JOHN DONNE

God Justice Pieces Sick Translation War
Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
JOHN DONNE

Gold Hands Happiness Live Love Silver
Doth not a man die even in his birth? The breaking of prison is death, and what is our birth, but a breaking of prison?
JOHN DONNE

Born Break Death Deep Man Ourselves Prison Spiritual
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
JOHN DONNE

Confusion Poor Soul
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

In heaven it is always autumn.

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In heaven it is always autumn.

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